1998

Sevendust, Snot, Hed (PE), Born Naked, Maritime Hall, SF, Fri., January 16, 1998

Happy New Year! It felt good to put the marathon year of ’97 behind me and though ’98 had slightly fewer shows to write about, I still have around 160 to hash out. I say around because I’m still discovering new ones from time to time that I didn’t record, plain forgot about, or was unsure which show I was at on a particular night in question. It was a busy time. This would be the last complete year I would serve out at the Maritime as my and my partner Pete’s relationship with the Hall’s tyrannical owner, Boots, would gradually become intolerable. But Pete and I wouldn’t have parted ways with the Hall full time until the end of ’99 and I would go in and substitute for our replacement, Wade until the Hall’s final sinking in early 2001. So, until then, I’ve got plenty to write about, so let’s get started.

It was the height of the so-called “nu-metal” movement back then typified by bands like Korn, Limp Bizkit, Staind, and the like. There was no shortage of talent and Sevendust was one of them and was brand new back then. They were from Atlanta and had just released their first self titled album the previous April. Sevendust derived their name from an insecticide powder called “Sevin” that was found in the garage of their bassist, Vince Hornsby’s grandmother. They originally were called Crawl Space but had to change it when they discovered a band in L.A. with the same name. Happens all the time to bands when they’re getting started especially as time goes on and more and more band names get snatched up. I saw them a few times over the next few years, including when they came back to play the Hall again in October. And though there are some other examples of black man singing for heavier guitar driven acts like Bad Brains, Fishbone, Oxbow, and Living Colour, it’s always good to see some diversity on stage. Their singer Lajon Witherspoon has an impressive set of pipes. As usual, Boots had a typo on the new monthly poster calling Sevendust, “Sevendusk” and the Space Children show never actually happened, whoever they are.

It was good fortune that the first band I’d see in this new year, opening that night was Born Naked, a band I was intimately familiar with having been roommates with their manager Patrick Dillman for a couple years in the Mission. I had moved out of that place for almost a year by this time, but it was always a pleasure to see them, hear them play, and catch up with Pat and the band again. This would be the first time I’d see Hed (PE) and they’d play the Hall quite a few more times in the future as well. Their name is an abbreviation of “Higher Education” and at first “Planetary Evolution”, but then later revised to “Planet Earth”. This would be one of only two times I’d have the honor to see Snot, a band with remarkable talent that ended all too soon and tragically at that.

Snot, like Sevendust, was also new having released their first and only album with singer Lynn Strait, “Get Some”. Lynn would be killed in a car crash that December along with his poor dog, Dobbs. That pooch was so beloved by the band that she graced the cover of that album and as luck would have it, give birth to a litter of puppies the day the album was released. Though I doubt any of those puppies are still living today, I can only guess if any of Dobb’s grandkids are barking. I hope so. Sevendust would go on to write a song called “Angel’s Son” for a tribute compilation album to Lynn called “Straight Up”, accompanied by a couple members of Snot. 

Putting the future tragedy aside, it was good to be back at the Hall again after having a couple weeks off after the New Years show with Toots & The Maytals. Pete was confident enough in my skills by this time to leave me at the helm of the recording room alone regularly and I had the honor of getting to tape the first two shows of the year myself. Lord knows, I had time on my hands having been unceremoniously let go from my AV job at the Marriott only a little over a month before this show, but I’d soon bounce back, beginning to work for the stagehands union. I’d take my first call with them that February and I’ve been with them ever since, though working with them and reconciling my schedule with the Hall and ushering proved to be dicey, at least until the Maritime folded, but that’s another story which I will get to when we get there. This night was a rowdy one and loud as hell and it was good practice to get back mixing full rock bands again after having not been at the the helm of the recording room without Pete since the previous November with the Brian Jonestown Massacre. The Electronica Hanakkuh a week after that didn’t really count as mixing since I had only two tracks and the audience mics to wrangle that evening.

Wyclef Jean, John Forte, Coolbone, Maritime Hall, SF, Wed., January 21, 1998

SETLISTS : 

(COOLBONE) : (unknown), Brass Hop’s Da Real, Gotta Sweat, (unknown), Get Ready, Doin The Butt, Woo Ha! (Got Ya All In Check), Mr. Magic, Funk Medley, Use Me

(WYCLEF JEAN) : No Woman No Cry, 1983 Jam, Anything Can Happen, John Forte freestyle, We Trying To Stay Alive, Medley, Gone Till November, freestyle, Guantanamera, Mona Lisa, Ooh-La-La-La

The second show of the year was also one I was able to record alone, Pete having no interest whatsoever in hip hop music. Thank God for that too since he didn’t realize just how popular this guy was at the time. Wyclef Jean, one of the members of ridiculously successful hip hop group, The Fugees, had landed a another hit with his new solo album “Wyclef Jean Presents The Carnival”, commonly referred to simply as “The Carnival”, which he released the previous June. Fellow members Lauryn Hill and Pras helped contribute to the album and Lauryn would blow everybody out of the water later that year when she released her even more meteorically successful solo album, “The Miseducation Of Lauryn Hill” that August. So, though I’d seen The Fugees four times in 1996 alone, I didn’t realize that they’d all move on so quickly, but they did.

Wyclef’s new material, like The Fugees, seemed to rehash older soul and reggae standards, even doing covers of Bob Marley’s “No Woman No Cry” and the classic Cuban folk song, “Guantanamera”. He tweaked the lyrics of the former that night, singing it solo on his guitar and getting a cheer from the crowd when he sang, “in the government yard in San Francisco”. He even had the original I-Tals back up singers contributing to his new album, as well as The Neville Brothers and Celia Cruz. Derivative he might be, but at least he had good help. 

Speaking of which, opening that night was Coolbone, the New Orleans “brass hop” band. I loved these guys having seen them open for Ben Harper the year before at The Warfield, rapping to Big Easy style second line music, tubas, trumpets, and all. Their sound was inspired and original, making them one of those few bands like The Mermen that seemed that they were born to be the perfect opening act. Wyclef brought along John Forte that night, a brilliant producer and songwriter who helped make The Fugees’ hit album, “The Score”, as well as Wyclef’s new solo album. He was excellent rapper in his own right and would go on to release his first solo album, “Poly Sci” later that year in June, which Wyclef produced. Wyclef’s DJ, DJ Higgins also got the crowd worked up beforehand, exhibiting his skills spinning and especially scratching. He did all sorts of tricks like scratching behind his back, between his legs, and even gradually taking off his T-shirt while scratching the record one hand at a time, never missing a beat. 

I have to hand it to Wyclef for being a showman, though I’m not a huge fan of his meandering performances myself. He undoubtably has charisma and worked up the crowd getting shout outs between songs once, taking turns welcoming Asians, Mexicans, Blacks, Whites, Filipinos, and Japanese people. Wyclef also improvised lyrics during the chorus of “Anything Can Happen” asking questions like “Will The Broncos win the Superbowl?” and “Will Tyson get a rematch”, before answering with the song’s title. Incidentally, the Broncos did win four days later, beating the Packers 31-24. And yes, Tyson would eventually get a rematch with Evander Holyfield later that June. But that would be the infamous one where Tyson was disqualified after biting Evander’s ear off. I’ll never forget watching that match with my mother on the one time I took a cruise with my family in the Caribbean. We were watching it in the ship’s casino with about 200 horrified other passengers. My poor mom had never even watched a boxing match before and wondered aloud if this was normal. I assured her it wasn’t.

Anyway, back to the show. Wyclef took a “moment of silence” bit where he took his electric guitar alone on stage and played a solo for people who have passed, first hitting long drawn out notes, before ending it with a bunch of Eddie Van Halen-like hammer down notes on the frets. I have to admit that his song “Gone Till November” is catchy to the point of being an ear worm. For some reason, after that show, I always had my own strange line implanted in that song being “Tell Jerry Springer I’ll be gone till November”. Your guess is as good as mine how Jerry snuck into my head for that one. I guess I just liked the way the words sounded. Though this would be the only time I’d see Wyclef headline one of his own shows, he’d come back to play the Hall on a bill in September called the Lyricist Lounge with De La Soul, and bunch of new acts including the Black Eyed Peas (before Fergie joined the band) and a fresh faced new kid calling himself Eminem.

Wailing Souls, Max Creek, Roots Awakening, Maritime Hall, SF, Fri., January 23, 1998

SETLIST  (MAX CREEK) : Something Is Forming, Fire & Brimstone, Blood Red Roses, Back Street Woman, Boogie On Reggae Woman, You’re The Only One, Wild Side, King Of California, You Let Me Down Again

The Maritime continued its tradition of pairing up reggae headliners with jam bands, what I like to call the “Deadhead/Dreadhead” shows. It is an understandable pairing considering both fans penchant for marijuana alone. But their nice people, both sides, and they all get along. The Wailing Souls had been around for decades, being contemporaries of all the founders in the 60s and 70s. The singers, Winston “Pipe” Matthews and Llyod “Bread” McDonald had taken voice lessons alongside Joe Higgs and once sang back up for Ernest Ranglin. They were the only two original members playing in the band that night. The Souls had released a new album, “Tension”, the year before and were currently working on an album of covers called, “Psychedelic Souls”. On that, they’d do reggae covers of a lot hippie standards like “Love Her Madly” by The Doors, “Like A Rolling Stone”, by Dylan, “My Generation” by The Who, and so on. I think they played a couple cuts that night, but I’m not too sure. I think “Love Her Madly” was one.

On the hippie side of the equation that night was Max Creek who were quite good as I remember. They had actually been around quite some time, almost as long as The Dead. They were from Connecticut and being east coast hippies, certainly had some influence on Phish, particularly bassist Mike Gordon who would sit in and play with them from time to time. They had taken a break from touring for a while to take time off to raise their families, which is one of the reasons I hadn’t heard of them before this show. Their latest album released that year, “Spring Water” was the first one they had done in eight years. Though I’d see the Souls one more time at The Warfield in 2003, this would be the only time I’d see Max Creek. The Souls would later have one of their shows at the Maritime recorded and released as a DVD/CD in September of 200, the period after Pete and I were gone, which is disappointing, but I’m glad that something got made of it. 

Oasis, Cornershop, BG Civic, SF, Mon., January 26, 1998

SETLISTS

(CORNERSHOP) : Sleep On The Left Side, Wog, Brimful Of Asha, We’re In Yr Corner, Butter The Soul, Good Shit, 6 AM Jullandar Shere

(OASIS) : Be Here Now, Stand By Me, Supersonic, Roll With It, D’You Know What I Mean?, Cigarettes & Alcohol, Don’t Go Away, Talk Tonight, Help!, Whatever, Don’t Look Back In Anger – All The Young Dudes, Wonderwall, Live Forever, It’s Gettin’ Better (Man!!!), Champagne Supernova, Acquiesce

The brothers Gallagher were back in town again and they’d brought Cornershop with them, an inspired combination in my opinion. I’d seen Oasis only six months before opening for U2 in Oakland at a very long distance away on the stadium’s third deck and was eager to see them headline their own show for the first time and get just a wee bit closer look at them. They had done a show at The Fillmore back in ’95, but I had to miss it for some reason. It wasn’t another show. I checked the list. The usher list probably filled up before I got a chance. Anyway, the bad boys from Britain were coming near to the end of the very long “Be Here Now” tour starting the previous May and would keep going for another month. By this time Noel and Liam were pretty wasted and really, really, really not getting along. But they got through the show without fighting, though Liam taunted the fans in the balcony for being “fat slobs”.

I’d just seen Cornershop as well just two months before when they did a free show at Slim’s. Their album, “When I Was Born For The 7th Time” had really caught on, especially their single, “Brimful Of Asha”. Norman “Fatboy Slim”  Cook would remix it that year and the new faster dance version would be an even bigger hit, becoming a staple at dance clubs. It was good to see Cornershop as an opening act again. I know it sounds like a dig, but they are one of those acts like The Mermen or Coolbone that seem to be suited for it perfectly. For not better reason, the crowd wouldn’t be so put off of Tjinder Singh’s notorious standoffishness. It’s strange to me that their music can be so uplifting and beautiful, yet live they can be so cold and distant.

Anyway, my brother Alex, was there with me that night, also being a fan of Cornershop and an even bigger fan of Oasis. We both were moved by Cornershop’s finale song “6 AM Jullandar Shere” which went on for nearly 18 minutes, a long time for any act to play a song, especially an opening one. Liam popped his head out from the wings during their set and got a cheer from the crowd and Noel came out and played bass on that last song as an added bonus. I’ll never forget the sight of Alex transfixed during that song and I swear I saw a tear down his cheek under his big blue sunglasses. Speaking of which, later during the show, he commented that Oasis had the same orange lighting as Cornershop. I carefully reached up without a word and took off his glasses and he was like, “Oh, Oasis have blue lighting!” No big deal. I think we were both pretty stoned for the show and it being Oasis, we were in good company on and off the stage. 

Like I said, Oasis was starting to hit a rough patch, well, their whole career up till then had been pretty contentious anyway. But the show went on, the boys talking the stage to the sound of “The Boys Are Back In Town” by Thin Lizzy playing over the speakers. The fans were enjoying themselves that night, as Alex and I were. There were several crowd floaters and we even saw one instance when a couple young ladies climbed and stood on the shoulders of their companions, holding hands with each other. Maybe they were cheerleaders, who knows?  Noel caught sight of them and was pleased, saying “Well done! That’s fucking top!”. They did a song that night called “Talk Tonight” which had been written by Noel about the time he left the band in 1994 after a fight with them at a gig in L.A. and him running away to San Francisco. There, he shakes up with a fan he’d met a few days before at the gig they played at Bottom Of The Hill. She eventually talked him into rejoining the band. Liam would get famously into trouble a couple weeks after this show on their Australian leg of the tour. The band had been getting complaints that they wouldn’t stop smoking cigarettes and Liam he threatened to throw a scone, yes, a scone, the pastry, at the pilot of Cathay Pacific flight. Very English of him. He was banned from the airline after they landed in Perth and Liam declared that he’d rather from then on “walk to Australia” then fly that airline again.

All boorish behavior aside, I still like Oasis and I’m sad to say that this would be the final time I’d see them. Even if you think “Wonderwall” and “Champagne Supernova” are corny and they are, they were catchy songs and their other material was equally as catchy. There’s something special about seeing brothers perform together and Noel expounded on that recently appearing in a popular documentary about another musical group of brothers, The Bee-Gees, called “How Do You Mend A Broken Heart”. Though I’d never see Oasis again, Alex went to see them one more time when they toured in 2001 with The Black Crowes and played at The Greek in L.A., ironically called the “Tour Of Brotherly Love”.  The Robinson brothers of The Crowes had a long reputation for fighting each other as well. Perhaps they should pair off and have a tag team wrestling match someday. Sadly, Alex got in too late partying in the parking lot of that show with his friends, thinking that Oasis would go on after The Crowes and missed their set. Well, maybe Oasis will tour again someday and I’ll get another chance. Maybe I’ll even see it with my brother.

Indigo Girls, Michelle Howe, War., SF, Tues., January 27, 1998

SETLIST : Power Of Two, Dead Man’s Hill, Least Complicated, Shame On You, The Wood Song, Cut It Out, Wish You Were Here, Get Out The Map, Shed Your Skin, Ghost, Don’t Give That Girl A Gun, It’s Alright, Thin Line, Chicken Man, Galileo, Romeo & Juliet, (encore), Blister In The Sun, Closer To Fine

This would be the first time I’d see the Indigo Girls headlining one of their own shows. I’d seen them twice before at the Bridge School Benefit and I liked their earlier works, even if “Closer To Fine” was starting to get on my nerves. It was just the two of them again on stage with their acoustic guitars and the occasional banjo. I don’t believe I’d ever seen them with a band backing them up actually and can’t even contemplate what that would sound like. I imagine it would be a little weird and even weirder if they went electric. So, I suppose it works out for them to stay a duo and would be cost effective, seeing that they wouldn’t have to pay a band or even shoulder the costs of moving the gear that comes along with one. Still, I did find out that they did have a touring band once in 1992 and their drummer was none other than Budgie, the drummer from Siouxsie & The Banshees, one of the best rock drummers in the industry. I would have like to have heard that.

This was the second of a two night stint at The Warfield and they being the lesbian and feminist icons they had risen to, there was no problem filling the place, especially it being San Francisco, and naturally the lines to the men’s rooms were remarkably sparse. I had a sticker badge from the night, so I must have worked the whole show, but it being a civilized acoustic show, it was easy. Once they started, people stood transfixed in their spots, not even moving, much less dancing. Not to say they weren’t enthusiastic, quite the opposite. Indigo Girls fans are committed, singing and clapping along to songs like “Least Complicated” and “Galileo”. They did a couple covers including Pink Floyd’s “Wish You Were Here”, which made me tear up and still does as I will always associate that song with the death of my friend Casey, who had just been killed on his bike less than five months before this show. On a happier note, they also covered “Blister In The Sun” by the Violent Femmes which was surprising actually in its selection and borderline punkishness. I’d see the Indigo Girls one more time that year when they joined Sarah McLachlan on her Lillith Tour at Shoreline, but that would be the last time I’d see them.

Kool Keith with Ice-T, Common, X-Ecutioners, Rahzel, Maritime Hall, SF, Fri., January 30, 1998

SETLIST : MC Ultra, Funky, Ease Back, Two Brothers With Checks (San Francisco Harvey), Poppa Large, freestyle, Sex Style, freestyle, Girl Let Me Touch You, Blue Flowers, Plastic World, Keep It Real, freestyle

I believe it was my friend Tory who had introduced me to the one and only Kool Keith and when I heard that not only I would have the pleasure of seeing him for the first time, but I’d get to record him as well, I was overjoyed. Still, I knew very little about him, just the rumors of his mysterious personality and his sudden departure from the Lollapalooza tour the year before. Though he was riding high on the Dr. Octagon album, “Dr. Octagonecologist”, Keith disappeared just before the tour began and reportedly spent the time in a hotel room, blowing his record advance money on hookers and drugs. That wasn’t the first time he’d bail on a gig, and I would learn a few more times in the future personally, that it wouldn’t be his last. His follow up album, “Sex Style”, had been out almost a year and the bonus track from that album, “Get Off My Elevator” would go on to be used in the Mike Judge’s seminal comedy “Office Space” the following year.

But thankfully, Keith did make it to this show and brought along some talented people with him. Rahzel from The Roots was there, doing his human beat box wizardry. He’d come back to headline his own show at the Hall in 1999 and use what I recorded for interludes on his debut album, “Make The Music 2000”. I was honored, but pissed that I wasn’t listed in the credits. That’s show biz. Also there were the turntable virtuosos, The X-Ecutioners, who wowed the crowd with their skills scratching and various tricks on the ones and twos. But the big deal that night was that Keith brought along a promising young rapper named Common with him. This was the first time I’d see him and the first tour he’d do with his new stage name, abbreviated from his former moniker, Common Sense. He was impressive and charismatic and it was easy to see why he would later be successful as an actor. He was touring with a new album, “One Day It’ll All Make Sense” which had several notable guests on it such as Lauryn Hill, De La Soul, Cee-Lo, Erykah Badu, and Q-Tip. Good endorsements for his talent right there. He would go on to get picked up by the major label MCA a couple years later and is now a bone fide A-lister.

But ultimately, it was Keith’s night and he had a lot of company on stage. First off was his DJ, the young and talented Kutmasta Kurt from Santa Cruz. He was introduced to kick off the set and described to the crowd as the “Lurch lookin’” guy who had “just took the bolts out of his neck”. Keith came out wearing a black hoodie and a red hunting cap with the ear flaps down and would soon be flanked with about 15 other people. The capper for the evening was that none other than Ice-T himself showed up to join Keith on stage. I mean, even I knew about him, though this would be the first time I’d see him too. He announced that he was working on his new album, “The Seventh Deadly Sin”, on stage and thanked the crowd for letting him do his thing “for 14 years”. Seemed like a long time then, but now his career is pushing forty. He was prominent in the new HBO documentary, “Pimps Up, Ho’s Down” that year as well.

They quickly went through a handful of Keith’s hits with his first band, the Ultramagnetic MCs, before going into his solo stuff and periodic freestyle rap sessions with Ice-T and the others. Keith would muse strange stuff like saying people think he’s “livin’ off some computer shit” and that he didn’t go out to “buy cereal”. Ice-T declared that the whole “east west shit was dead”, a rebuke to the rivalry that cost the lives of Tupac and Biggie the year before, though he did freestyle some rather gun crazy freestyle stuff, but hey, he’s Ice-T. The man practically invented it, saying he was doing the gangster shit when “y’all were break dancin’”. When the song “Sex Style” came around, several spunky young ladies were brought on stage to dance and get their freak on. Ice-T, being impressed by one of the more promiscuous ones declared that she was “a star” and offered to her and others to “make you a star”.

Even more people came on stage to dance to “Blue Flowers” including a rather weird , skinny, young white guy who had dressed his T-shirt over his scalp like an Egyptian pharaoh. Keith said it was a song about some “acid shit” and for folks who were into “different things” and who “know their pills”. Maybe the white guy was on some of those, because his dance moves were downright bizarre, even doing a hand stand for a moment. Ice-T seemed a little miffed by him, but went along with it saying, “This music is for him! Now do you understand?” During one of the freestyle sessions, Keith made fun of Money B from the Digital Underground on stage, patting his belly rapping, “Yo, Money B, fat stomach G”, cracking them both up. It was a wild show and I made it a point to see Keith each and every time he’d show up to the bay area, even the shows he’d ultimately bail on. Luckily, he always made it to the shows he’d do at the Maritime and when he came back in 1999, footage from that show would go on to be used in the bonus features of the DVD he’d have released from the gig he did at the Mezzanine in 2006. Pity that none of the footage from this show was used though. It was quite a night.

Busta Rhymes, Mystic Journeymen, 7 Gin, Maritime Hall, SF, Tues., February 3, 1998

SETLIST : Rhymes Galore, When Disaster Strikes, Do My Thing, So Hardcore, Flava In Ya Ear, Case Of The PTA, It’s A Party, It’s All Good, Get High Tonight, The Body Rock, Turn It Up, Scenario, Everything Remains Raw, Dangerous, Woo Ha! (Got You All In Check), Put Your Hands Where My Eyes Can See

It had only been since the previous September that Busta released his latest album, “When Disaster Strikes” and he played the Maritime with EPMD. That show was a bit of surprise, booked at the last minute and sold out instantly. But after a few months, the album kept selling and he was even bigger by this show. Luckily, Pete still didn’t know how big a deal he was and didn’t care at all for hip hop acts, so he left me to take care of this one on my own again. This would be the first time I’d see Oakland own Mystik Journeymen. The rap duo of Luckyiam and Sunspot Jonz had been a bone fide DIY hip hop force in the east bay, putting out their own albums for a few years and had a respectable reputation around. They had just released their new album on their Outhouse record label called “Worldwide Underground” that year and would go on to play the Hall several more times to come as themselves and with the Living Legends. They got the crowd all warmed up and it was easy to like them. The Journeymen have got real talent, always a reliable opening act.

Busta came out with a recorded intro from the new album warning that everybody was going to soon get fucked up and he took the stage screaming at the top of his lungs to the beat, accompanied by his hype man, Spliff Star, and DJ Scratchitor. Everything was going smoothly for most of the show, though there was one incident where a fight broke out in the crowd, but Busta nipped that in the bud immediately. He scolded the guilty parties involved declaring, “When we go to a party, we don’t want no bullshit! I see a little bullshit about to happen over here. I don’t want no bitch ass niggas to fuck up the party!” Someone up in the front was also grabbing Busta a little trying to pull him closer and he slapped their hand away saying, “Don’t pull me off the stage. I’ll bust my motherfuckin’ head!” 

He put that aside and quickly got back to getting his freak on. Busta even challenged some of the ladies in the front, asking them , “Do you wanna fuck? We can fuck, right?” Whether any of the ladies took him up on that offer after the show, I can’t say, but he played “It’s All Good” right after giving all who heard it little doubt of the sincerity of his horniness. After the song, he said, “I’m a freaky ass nigga’. I like to fuck… period.” He continued saying that he also liked to smoke after he fucks and went right into “Get High Tonight”. They finished the show with their hit song, “Put Your Hands Where My Eyes Can See”, a song that would garner Busta a Grammy nomination for Best Rap Solo Performance the next year. He also made sure to announce that he was working on a new album which would come out the following Halloween. That album would be the “E.L.E. (Extinction Level Event) : The Final World Front” album, though it actually would make it into stores until that December. It would be four years until I got to see Busta again, but I’d see him three more times between 2002 and 2003.

Sisters Of Mercy, Lucky Me, Maritime Hall, SF, Fri., February 6, 1998

SETLIST : First & Last & Always, Ribbons, Come Together, Train – Detonation Boulevard, Amphetamine Logic, War On Drugs, Giving Ground, We’re The Same Susanne, One The Wire – Teachers, Will I Dream?, Dominion – Mother, Summer Russia, Anaconda, Romeo Down, Flood II, Temple Of Love, Comfortably Numb – Some Kind Of Stranger, (encore), Something Fast, This Corrosion

Though I was getting a comprehensive education in both reggae and hip hop at the Maritime, I also was privileged to get to know some of the Goth acts. After all, the first show I’d record with Pete was Christian Death. This time it was The Sisters Of Mercy, a band who I’d heard of, seeing their albums and T-shirts around growing up, but knew none of their music. It wasn’t a total surprise, since they hadn’t released a new album their 1990 album, “Vision Thing”. Their gaunt, moody singer, Andrew Eldritch, had been feuding with his record label, East West, having owed them two more albums, but producing nothing. He even went so far to make a side project album called “SSV” the year before this show which supposedly stood for “Screw Shareholder Value : Not So Much A Band As Another Opportunity To Waste Money On Drugs & Ammunition Courtesy Of Time Warner”. He eventually settled with the record company giving them that album, though they never released it. Bootleg copies of it have been circulating about, though I’ve never heard any of it.

I suppose this is one of the reasons why The Sisters wouldn’t let us record that night. It is always disappointing to me when a bad shuts us down, even ones like this who I didn’t know anything about. I didn’t put up much of a fuss, but when I was eating dinner downstairs in the cafeteria, the band came down to join the rest of us and I was complaining about it, making sure that Andrew could hear me. I made a point to say, “This could be the best show they would ever play and now it’s going to be lost forever”. Boo-hoo. It didn’t faze him. He just continued to eat his dinner emotionless and silent as the grave. The good news was that I was allowed to at least record the opening act, Lucky Me, and I liked them a lot. I picked up one of their records at Amoeba after this show. I was able to get The Sisters set with my cassette recorder and it was loud enough that it came out OK anyway.

One incident from this show, or rather before the show, I would never forget. I was upstairs before the doors opened, setting up the wide shot camera up in the balcony when I saw this happen. My friend and co-worker, Jerry, was on stage during the Sisters’ soundcheck and was on the stage left side. Where he was standing was a six foot piece of truss with lights on it that the band had brought, one of a pair that had been set up on the far sides of the stage in addition to the Maritime’s lights. Jerry had bent over to pick something up off the floor and had gripped the truss with one of his hands for balance. The truss clearly hadn’t been weighted down by sandbags or attached to a metal base or anything to secure it and fell over, narrowly missing Jerry. The sound of the metal crashing down onto the stage floor echoed throughout the Maritime’s cavernous structure and the members of the Sisters, already miffed about the recording thing, took their anger out on poor Jerry. He was given the night off and was clearly mortified by the experience. I felt bad for him, he being a great stagehand and friendly as the day is long. It was only an accident and the lighting truss was fine, nothing broken, but it only added to the negative vibes that had already been festering earlier. 

It came as some consolation that this show was indeed not the best show they would ever play, since it was the first of a two day stint at the Hall and from what I’ve read from fans who attended both shows, that the second day was better and more crowded. One of the fans in the crowd gave Andrew a bottle of wine on the first day and a pair of sunglasses on the second. I didn’t show up for the second day since I’d already recorded Lucky Me, so I couldn’t say, but from what I heard that night, I enjoyed it. We were spoiled actually, since The Sisters did only six shows in America on this tour and San Francisco got two of them. Lots of smoke machine fog was used that night to say the least. One song I knew for sure was their cover of Pink Floyd’s “Comfortably Numb”, a song that had been played to death, but they found a way to make it fresh again. I joined in the crowd after they got to part where he sings, “just a little pinprick… There’ll be no more-..” and then everybody shrieked at the top of their lungs. I think I was a little drunk, hearing myself on my tape whooping it up between songs.

In a strange coincidence, I’d get to record The Damned at the end of the month, a show I was thrilled beyond words to do, they being one of my favorite bands and I never had seen before, much less record. The Damned had just picked up Patricia Morrison as their bass player in 1996 and she had played with The Sisters Of Mercy years before after playing with The Gun Club, but had left the band after Eldritch stiffed her on money he owed her. She would go on to marry the singer of The Damned, Dave Vanian, in 1997 and they would even go on to sire a daughter together named Emily. One can only imagine how either Patricia or Andrew felt about being on the Maritime’s poster at the same time that month.

Edi Fitzroy, Sister Carol, Maritime Hall, SF, Sat. Feb. 14, 1998

Reggae is good music for romance in general, so this one was a good Valentine’s Day show. Originally, Everton Blender was supposed to headline, but he was replaced for some reason by Edi Fitzroy. Whenever a replacement or cancellation happened at the Hall, I rarely ever heard the reason for it. Sister Carol opened up the show and was excellent as always, an absolutely reliable opening act for any show. I had been introduced to both acts the previous year, each opening for Eek-A Mouse at the Maritime on two separate occasions, Sister Carol opening for him the previous May and Edi the previous November. The show went smoothly thanks to Pete being at the helm again, being the master of all things reggae which was fine. The more time he spent with the deadheads and the dreadheads, the more likely he’d leave the rest to me. This would be the last time I’d see either Edi or Sister Carol. Sadly, Edi would pass away in 2017 at the all too young age of 61, but Sister Carol is still alive and well, so I might get another chance to see her again someday.

Zen Tricksters, Puddle Junction, David Gans, Maritime Hall, SF, Sat., Feb. 21, 1998

There had been many jam bands that had already passed through the Hall by this time since Jerry Garcia died, but this one was a bone fide Grateful Dead cover band, one of the first in fact. The Tricksters had been covering their music, though I’ve long argued that The Dead were mostly a cover band to begin with, since 1979. Hailing from Long Island, they helped fill the gaps like fellow east coast acts like Phish for the times when The Dead weren’t around. We here in the bay area have always been spoiled by having these guys local and available to play multiple dates every year. The star player in The Tricksters was keyboard virtuoso Rob Barraco, who played The Dead’s songs so well, that he’d eventually be picked up to join such Dead off-shoot projects as Phil Lesh & Friends, The Other Ones, and The Dead themselves. He’d even join the Dark Star Orchestra, yet another Dead cover band, in 2005, after the untimely death of their keyboardist, Scott Larned, who succumbed to heart failure at the young age of 35. Though The Tricksters had by this time been playing together for nearly twenty years, it was only the year before this show that they would release their first album of original material called, “Holy Fool”.

Joining the bill that night was David Gans who with his band the Broken Angels, managed to coax Phil Lesh out of hiatus to play with him the year before, the first live shows he’d perform after Jerry died. I was able to attend the first of the two shows he’d play with Phil at the Maritime, but was unable to attend the second, being out of town for Christmas. David was alone this time with his acoustic guitar, no Phil in sight sadly. The Tricksters would also go on to collaborate with former Grateful Dead back up singer, Donna Jean Godchaux, in 2006, who also had come out of retirement recently at the Maritime, joining in with the all star hippie Christmas sing-a-long show, the Philharmonia, the previous December. Also playing was Puddle Junction, a jam band out of Chico that would be a frequent opener of hippie acts to come through the Hall. This show was being billed as a “Mardi Gras Costume Ball”, so there were plenty of colorful beads and novelty hats to go around and it being a hippie show, all manors of drinking and smoking herb. Can’t recall or find the setlist, but I’d say it is a safe bet that “Iko Iko” was played at least once that night by one of the acts. Like so many Dead cover bands such as the Dark Star Orchestra, The Tricksters were such skilled musicians, that clearly they were as least as talented as The Dead, if not superior to them.

Outkast, Coca Bravas, Beatnuts, Maritime Hall, SF, Sun., Feb. 22, 1998

SETLIST : Hootie Hoo, ATLiens, Jazzy Belle, Wheelz Of Steel, Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik, Player’s Ball, Two Dope Boyz (In A Cadillac), Elevators (Me & You)

The “dirty south” hip hop scene was just getting its legs around this time and Outkast was riding high on the crest of that wave. Along with fellow Georgia natives the Goodie Mob and other acts like Nappy Roots, they were showing the world that hip hop wasn’t necessarily limited to New York or California. Outkast was still pretty new then at least to people out on the west coast, having only released their second and most recent album, “ATLiens” in 1996. Their third album, “Aquemini” would be released that September, but they didn’t play any new songs from it at this gig. But despite being new, they had no problem packing the house, even when the show was announced at such short notice that it didn’t even make it to the Maritime’s monthly poster. Andre Benjamin introduced himself by his normal name, instead of “Andre 3000”, that night nor wasn’t dressed like a Martian or some wigged pimp from the 1970s as he would do regularly in the years to come. In fact, apart from the colorful wool knit beanie hat he wore, he dressed rather informally. He was representing Atlanta baseball though, wearing a blue satin Braves jacket, but he took it off after a couple songs.

Opening that night were the Beatnuts from Queens, a remarkably talented and frankly underrated hip hop act. With songs like “Off The Books” and “Watch Out Now”, their songs would permeate countless DJ’s playlists back then, though their name would escape most people who heard their stuff. Also opening that night was Coca Bravaz from Brooklyn. They were once called “Smif-N-Wessun” but predictably had to change their name when the gun maker threatened to sue them. Like most hip hop shows, all the bands played pretty short sets. Even Outkast’s set was only 35 minutes long. But thankfully, Outkast would return to play the Hall that November with a little known band named Black Eyed Peas, before they brought Fergie into the band. They and Outkast would shortly get ridiculously popular in the next few years, leaving mid-sized venues like the Maritime far behind. 

The Damned, Man Will Surrender, Maritime Hall, SF, Sat., Feb. 28, 1998

SETLIST : Plan 9 Channel 7, Dozen Girls, Neat Neat Neat, Wait For The Blackout, I Just Can’t Be Happy Today, Disco Man, Shadow Of Love, Curtain Call, Noise Noise Noise, Melody Lee, Looking At You, (encore), New Rose, Love Song, (encore), Eloise, Smash It Up, (encore), Ignite

This was probably the most important show I’d ever do at The Maritime, at least the most important show to me personally. I’d been waiting for years, since I was a kid really, to see The Damned. The only show I’d ever hear about them playing growing up was a gig at the I-Beam on Haight Street and it broke my heart that I couldn’t get in since I was underage at the time and it was a 21 and over club and was notorious for taking fake IDs from kids who tried to get in. My brother Alex had introduced me to The Damned when I was still in junior high and I was instantly a fan. They would be the first band that would really differentiate me from my friends taste in music. In fact, I knew only one other fellow in high school, a guy called Trey Turner, who liked them. Most folks didn’t even know who they were. To me, The Damned were easily one of the most underrated bands in music history, even borderline as tragically overlooked in America, but to fans like myself, they were revered. It took years, 40 in fact, but I think they’re at least getting a fraction of the credit they deserve. I have always felt that they deserve to be in the Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame.

When I saw that they were going to play the Hall, I was over the moon as you might imagine. I made sure that Pete let me record this one. Pete might have been twice my size, a Navy veteran, and been in dozens of fist fights, but I was willing to throw down to be at the helm for this one. He saw how important this show was to me and had no objections, though he was co-pilot that night. It was an interesting time to see The Damned. Their original drummer, Rat Scabies, had left the band by then. There was some acrimony between Rat and the band over the release of the “Not Of This Earth” or “I’m Alright Jack & The Beanstalk” album in 1995 and they never reconciled, which is a pity since I’d always admired Rat as a drummer. They had replaced him with a fellow named Garrie Dreadful, who had been touring with guitarist Captain Sensible with his solo act. Also new to the band was Monty Oxymoron, a goofy chap with a giant head of frizzy black hair, on keyboards. I think it was the first time The Damned had toured with a keyboard player. I suppose it was good training for Monty for life touring with The Damned that he once had a job as a psychiatric nurse. Incidentally, speaking of mentally illness and rock stars, both he and the Captain attended Syd Barrett’s funeral in 2007.

As I had mentioned earlier in my recollections of the Sisters Of Mercy show that happened at the Hall earlier that month, Patricia Morrison was now playing bass for The Damned. She had been with the Sisters years before, but had parted ways with them over being stiffed money, joining The Damned replacing Moose Harris who went on to play with New Model Army. She not only joined them in 1996, but would go on to marry the lead singer, Dave Vanian, shortly afterwards right after the band’s tour of Australia in 1997 and they would sire a daughter together named Emily. Patricia would play in the band until 2004 before retiring. The Damned had gone through several line up changes over their long career beginning in the mid 70s. They would have the distinction of being the first punk band in the UK to chart a single, “New Rose”, and one of the only bands to tour with the Sex Pistols while they were still together for their brief, but memorable career.

In the years just before this show, Dave had been tinkering with a solo project, Dave Vanian & The Phantom Chords, which I would see but once when they toured in 2000 and played Slim’s. Like I said, Captain Sensible had a surprisingly successful solo career, at least in the UK. He would gain notoriety not with punk music, but strangely enough with hits like “Wot”, a rap song, using the music from “Rapper’s Delight”, and a cover of “Happy Talk”, yes, THAT “Happy Talk”, the song from the musical “South Pacific”. What can I say, the Captain is a horse of a different color to say the least which is one of the reasons he and Dave a heroes to me. They were freaks like me. The Damned were a difficult band to categorize. Yes, they were at the forefront of the British punk scene and played many punk songs, really helping define the genre, but in the 80s, they would also typify the Goth scene, especially with their seminal album, “Phantasmagoria”. I’m glad they would play “Shadow Of Love” from that one, despite Captain having left the band by the time it came out. Dave always looked a bit like a vampire anyway. Contrasting his ghoulish, yet dapper appearance and manners was the Captain, a foul mouthed, beer swilling, harlequin guitar hero. This dichotomy between the two is one of the many reasons they make such a strong impression.

Tura Satana was supposed to open the show, but didn’t make it for some reason, leaving only Man Will Surrender, who I remember very little of that night. Just as well, since I was understandably distracted and eager to see my heroes for the first time. Monty came out first and started a little intro music on his keyboard, a riff that was reminiscent of Alice Cooper’s “I’m Eighteen”. Captain came out next, prancing about the stage and even doing a backwards somersault before strapping on his guitar. He had been known for wearing a red beret and white rimmed sunglasses, but he had neither of those on that night. Instead, he wore small John Lennon round sunglasses and he wore some sort of black, soft cotton long sleeved outfit with white line trim designs all over it and a matching soft, brimless hat. The whole piece looked as if it came from North Africa. He broke the ice with the crowd by introducing himself as Phil Collins and asking them if anyone wanted to suck his cock before launching into their first song, “Plan 9 Channel 7”. Dave was his usual vampirish self, pale with his hair slicked back wearing sunglasses and a long sleeved silk shirt with wide lapels and a deep V-neck, though he took the glasses off after a few songs. Patricia wore all black, though sported a subtle pair of Halloween devil horns through her long, black hair.

I was nervous as hell to get the recording right, but with Pete’s help, I managed to get it pretty well balanced. I did have a little balancing to do with Captain’s guitar though. The sound level would dip when he was doing solos instead of chords and I’d have to ride the faders all night. It’s always a good thing to know the music of the band you’re recording to anticipate such changes and as I knew every song they played that night backwards and forwards, it wasn’t that difficult, though it kept me on my toes. Captain would continue to make jokes between songs, dedicating the next one, “Dozen Girls” to our lascivious President of the time, Bill Clinton. Bill had just made his infamous, “did not have sexual relations with that woman” speech only the month before this show.

Dave would improvise things between songs as well, even crooning a bit of “I Left My Heart In San Francisco” with his trademark baritone voice before busting into the explosive “Neat Neat Neat”, and during “Shadow Of Love” asking “Who knows what lurks in the hearts of men?… The Shadow knows”, a reference to the vintage radio show of the 1930’s. Dave also did a couple lines of Johnny Cash’s “Ring Of Fire” in the middle of a very long version of the MC5 song, “Looking At You”. Before they did “Wait For The Blackout”, Captain referred to it as “in my case, wait for the nob-out”. Dave would dedicate “Disco Man” to “all you fans of ‘Saturday Night Fever’ and John Travolta”. Captain also dedicated it to John Travolta and to the “pineapple up his asshole”.  

The crowd matched their rowdiness and penchant for dressing up. There were a few novelty hats around, one fellow in particular with a conspicuously tall top hat. There were probably more stage divers at that show than any I’d seen at the Hall. Little Boot and the security guys had no barricade and thus very little time to stop the endless parade of girls and boys from hopping on stage and jumping. My God, the girls up front were all over the Captain too, taking turns hugging and kissing him. One got up and kissed Dave before “Noise Noise Noise” and Captain pouted and then playfully scolded Dave to only have “the birds on your side”. Dave retorted, “But Captain, this is San Francisco. Can you be sure?” Not to be the only joker on stage, Garrie swiped the Captain’s guitar and strummed some riffs a little before handing it back to him and then the band played “Melody Lee”. I loved the placid keyboard introduction Monty did for that song before it ripped into the fast punk song it was and Monty comically jumped and flailed about for the rest of it.

They did three encores that night after ending their set with “Eloise”. For the first encore, Captain came out wearing only his black underwear, what the British refer to as “Y-fronts”, though we like to call them tidy whities. Doing another costume change for the second encore, he came out wearing a light pink summer dress and a blond, bobbed woman’s wig. It was quite a sight watching Captain roll around on the ground during the slow beginning of “Smash It Up” and french kissing a couple young ladies in the front. Dave and the band were looking at him almost impatiently for him to finish making out before they went into the faster second half of that song. One of those girls stole Captain’s wig briefly, trying it on for herself. I’ll never forget after the song ended, Pete was convinced the show was over and turned off the ADAT machines, though I told him to wait. To his defense, the band was off stage a little longer than the usual encore break, but they did come back and we managed to scramble, getting the tapes back in the machines and starting them before the last song began. They finished the night with an epic version of “Ignite” that went on over ten minutes.

To see them finally was a dream come true and that dream could only have been made perfect if they would have used my recording for a CD or DVD, but they didn’t sadly. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting them to since The Damned had several live albums out by then and countless bootlegs available. Still, a boy can dream. At least somebody posted the video from that show on YouTube and since only they had the other copy and I, Boots, nor Pete would post it, I can only imagine that one of them did it, at least I hope it was one of them. Their endorsement of my work would mean the world to me. As luck would have it, The Damned did return to the bay area shortly after this show to play at the Phoenix Theater in Petaluma a month to the day after, the only time I’d ever see a show at that venue. Boots was booking the acts at the Phoenix at the time, so I was able to get in free to that show along with my girlfriend Lisa. I was glad especially since I wasn’t able to go upstairs at their show at the Maritime to watch since I was recording them throughout their show. 

My curiosity got the better of me and I went backstage that night to talk to them before their set and I did my best to not make a fool of myself. I told them who I was and asked them if they had a chance to watch the tape of the show I recorded, but Patricia simply said that they hadn’t and usually after a show, they’re so tired, that they just get in the van and go. I didn’t take it personally, but I’ll never forget the sour look on Captain’s silent face while I was talking to them in that small dressing room of theirs. They say that you should never meet your heroes, but I disagree with the absolute nature of that statement. I concede that when you do, try to read the room. I don’t know if I was annoying the Captain or if he was just not in the mood to talk to a jabbering fan like me, but I made it brief and rejoined Lisa outside to watch the show. 

There was only about a hundred or so people at that show, making more of a party than a concert, which is always bad for the band, but great for fans. I hope The Damned at least recognized my obvious enthusiasm and joy during their set, as I danced and sang along to every song they played that night. I must have been impossible not to notice up front. As you might imagine, I made a point to see them play each and every time they would come to town for their years to follow, at least six or seven more times since. But the memory of this first show will be seared into my brain until my dying day, easily one of the proudest moments of my life.

Salmon, Born Naked, Papa Roach, Barim Som, Maritime Hall, SF, Fri,. March 6, 1998

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again that Salmon was a great, underrated band, a band that deserved more. But it comes as some consolation to me that the last time I’d see them would be at the Hall at a show I was recording and the only time I’d see them headline. The Hall would be charitable to local acts, smaller ones from time to time, giving them a show at a low ticket price. It was only $7 to get in on this one. That, and what I’m sure was a generous guest list, helped at least fill the dance floor of the Hall on this one. Salmon had recently hard an acrimonious parting of ways with their record label, Red Ant, but at least had a couple albums under their belt, “Paco, Drop The Chicken!” and “Flourished With Candies”. The singer, Lawrence Martinez, even mentioned it on stage saying that “they bent us over”. On a side note, it was my sister Erica’s 24th birthday that night, but I don’t think she was at the show.

Opening that night after Baring Som was a new, young act from Vacaville called Papa Roach. They named their group after singer Jacoby Shaddix’s step-grandfather, Howard William Roach, and had just released their “5 Tracks Deep”EP. That would get the attention of major labels and they would be signed to Dreamworks a year later and get big with their smash hit song, “Last Resort”. But for this show, they were on early and there probably was about fifty people watching them by the time they finished. I liked them back then though. I rightly thought they had potential and were skilled musicians. Their persistence in touring would pay off in the end, though tragically Jacoby’s step grandad would die by his own hand in 2006 after receiving a terminal cancer diagnosis. 

On a happier note, this was yet another opportunity for me to record and hang out with Born Naked. My old roommate Patrick had been booking them all around town regularly then and they would play the Hall at least three or four times. This time, Born Naked moved up the ranks at this show being second to last instead of the first band of the night like they had been the times before. They would get the lion’s share of the audience at that show since as usual for a night with so many acts, it was running late. Lawrence Martinez made a note of it during the show saying that technically they were playing on March 7th instead of the 6th, since they got on after midnight.

I learned a few things about Salmon while researching this show. For starters, one of the reasons that most folks don’t know them is that there are at least three other musical acts that have the same name. One’s from Washington D.C., another’s from The Netherlands, and one of them most notably is a side project for Australian rock star Kim Salmon. I knew that (this) Salmon was from Gilroy, the garlic capital of America, but I was amused to hear that for some reason, probably the rowdiness of their fans, they were banned from playing in their hometown. Seriously, I’ve only ever heard that happening to a band a couple times like the Bay City Rollers or when Pantera made a mess of the Warfield in 1994. Lawrence, the singer, actually used to sell encyclopedias door to door, which is probably one of the reasons he’s so funny and charismatic on stage, having honed his interpersonal skills doing it.

He would crack me up all night with his antics doing stuff like asking the crowd between songs if they had ever heard of Hanson and saying that he looked like Ponch from “Chips” with his collar popped up. Lawrence thanked the people at the Hall saying that they “hooked us up, cooked us salmon & shrimp, and gave us beer”. That was nice of the guys downstairs in the cafeteria to do salmon that night for them. With their name, they had better like the fish. Maybe they’re sick of it now. Before they did “The Knack”, Lawrence described it as “the love song with a little bump & grind” and said it was “time to tap that ass!” He wished the drummer Pat an early happy birthday which would be on Sunday and said he “was money… so money”, a reference to the film “Swingers” which had come out in October of 1996.

Lawrence did another funny thing that night between songs, first talking about Michael Jordan when he just got out of college and how he bought a pair of his Air Jordan shoes around 1985 and it came with a commemorative pin. He took the pin out and gave it away to a member of the crowd up front and told him to “take care of it”. Then he announced, “Hey bartender! Free beer for everyone! Roll the keg over here!… Two kegs…. Seven kegs” That led into the band playing the song “Seven” next, but he first showed everybody his “rock star tattoo” of the number seven on his leg and joked how he got it hanging around with Tommy Lee of Motley Crue. “He would flap his big dick over and I’d flap my little dick over… Well, not little, just not as big as Tommy Lee!” He’d keep the improv going again introducing their new song, “The Midgets Of Peru”, then quickly correcting himself calling it, “Livermore”. Before they wrapped up the night, like many acts do, they mentioned that they were playing another gig later in the month. They were going to play the Cactus Club in San Jose again with Papa Roach and none other than System Of A Down, who like Papa Roach were new and would also go on to be huge. Lawrence once again did a riff saying that everyone there is going to “dress up as pigs… I’ll be Porky Pig”. Funny guy, Lawrence. I’ll still miss Salmon and honestly, I think of them from time to time whenever I eat the fish.

Lady Saw, Rankin Scroo & Ginger, Maritime Hall, SF, Sat. March 7, 1998

Reggae was back at the Hall, so Pete was back again and the joints were flowing. I was relieved since the show with Salmon the night before went into the wee hours. This time it was Ms. Marion Hall, who back then was known as Lady Saw, a highly respected reggae artist and one of the few female ones. She was known as the Queen Of Dancehall and would go on to become the only female DJ to be certified triple platinum from her collaboration with No Doubt and their song, “Underneath It All” in 2001. Opening up the night was Rankin Scroo & Ginger who I had seen open for so many other reggae people, that they were starting to get on my nerves. Lady Saw had been around a few years, long enough that she had just released her greatest hits album, “Raw, The Best Of Lady Saw” and was working to release her fourth album, “99 Ways” that December. One thing I like about Lady Saw is unlike other Dancehall reggae artists like Buju Banton or Beenie Man, you can actually understand what the hell she’s saying, well, mostly. She has excellent diction.

As the name of that greatest hits album suggests, Lady Saw is renowned, at least in her earlier work, as having lyrics that were a tad suggestive with songs like, “Life Without Dick” and “Name Nuh Stand Fi Sex”. I’ve always said reggae was good getting busy music and there’s no reason why women can’t get in on the fun. But like so many musicians who start out horny as hell, Lady Saw found religion, got baptized, became a minister, changed her name back to her birth name, and her later work turned towards gospel. It happened to Prince. Hell, it even happened to Dave Mustaine from Megadeth. But for that night, she was the definition of raw and I’m sure some people got busy after that show. Strangely enough, I would always remember one song she did called “Sycamore Tree”, mainly because I used to live in the Mission on Sycamore Street, or as I liked to call it, Sycamore Alley, by the Elbo Room. On a final note of sour grapes though, I regret that there would later be release a DVD of Lady Saw playing the Hall recorded a year after Pete and I bitterly parted ways with Boots, the owner. Though I haven’t heard or seen that DVD, I can say for certain, Pete’s mix is better, always is. I suppose I can be happy for Lady Saw, or rather Marion Hall, that at least something came out.

The Crystal Method, Flatboy Slim, David Holmes, Propellerheads, BT, War., SF, Thur., March 12, 1998

It had only been a few months since the Electronica Hanukkuh at Maritime Hall, but The Crystal Method were already back, this time packing in a sold out crowd at The Warfield. Though the rave scene had long since moved out of the shadows of warehouses in the dead of night, all these acts were still pretty new to people in the general public who weren’t in on it from the beginning. The Crystal Method had a big hit on their hands, “Busy Child”, and soon the opening act, Fatboy Slim would release “You’ve Come A Long Way Baby” in October. With such hits like “Right Here, Right Now” and “The Rockefeller Skank”, the world of EDM music would worm its way into every ear.

Speaking of Mr. Slim, I just learned only yesterday researching this show that he used to be the bass player for The Housemartins, until their break up in 1988. Not going into it with too many details, let’s just say that The Housemartins were a pretty radical departure from the kind of music, as he was known then as Mr. Norman Cook, would produce. It is understandable for anyone not to make the connection and I’m sure he hears similar overtures of disbelief all the time. He had only taken the moniker of Fatboy Slim two years before this show, leaving that band’s poppy organic sound for the turntables. In a side note, I thought it ironic that I recorded The Damned at the Maritime only less than two weeks before this show since it was when Slim’s brother gave him that band’s first album, that he began his interest in music. Small world. Incidentally, Slim holds the Guinness Book Of World’s Record for the most Top 40 hits under different names, using such humorous nom de pulme’s as Margaret Scratcher, Chimp McGarvey, and Yum Yum Head Food.

The Warfield didn’t do a lot of EDM shows, but as most people know, they went late, and that night was no exception. I didn’t mind though since the line up was actually quite brilliant that night. BT, AKA Brian Wayne Transeau, a recent dropout from the Berklee School Of Music, was on the bill, who like the others was still new having released his first album, “ESCM”, the previous September. He’d go on to have an illustrious career in the field, remixing songs for a variety of artists ranging from Sting, to Madonna, to N’SNYC, to Seal and would have the most dubious of distinctions of being the last official gig at Maritime Hall in 2001, a show that I would have the solemn honor of recording. The Propellerheads were there too, a band to only release one studio album, “Decksandrumsandrockandroll” that January. Though that would be the only time I’d see them, their memory would live on with their song “Take California”, which was used for the first iPod commercial in 2001.

Anyway, it was a long show and even the volunteer ushers like myself weren’t cut until well after 11. It was OK, though. With all the blinding light show and ever-present clouds from the fog machines, there wasn’t much to look at on stage, so the the crowd would circulate for most of the night. No problem hearing the music anywhere, since it was being blasted all night at ear splitting levels as well. They had a good DJ named Taylor to spin records in the beginning and before and after The Crystal Method as well, so the music came and went seamlessly.

Inner Circle, Emerg-MC, Earl Zero, Maritime Hall, SF, Fri., March 13, 1998

Most people know this band from their hit single, “Bad Boys”, which would become forever joined at the hip as the theme song of the reality show, “Cops” ever since its inception in 1989. I would say that this song is one of the reasons it took off since anyone who knows anything about TV knows that a show’s theme song is the first impression that any new viewer experiences and a song like this one nailed it. Even hearing it today, reviewing this show, it haunts you. If that wasn’t enough, it would also forever be associated with the Will Smith/Martin Lawrence movie franchise of the same name. This song share the unique distinction of being one of only two songs I kept in my records from the stuff I have from the Hall as a song I kept alone, without the rest of the show. The other song was “Round & Round” by Ratt, when they played at the Maritime the previous July. It is something I’m not proud of in fact, since both bands, as divergent stylistically as they are, have a reputable repertoire of songs that deserve credit.

One of those songs for Inner Circle was “Sweat (A La La La La Long)”, which though most people would never know it was they that recorded it would recognized it instantly. The chorus of that song sticks in your head and stays there. Likewise, they had just released a reggae cover of The Beatles’ “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da” on their most recent album, “Jamaika Me Crazy”, that year, a song equally as infectious. I’d never seen Inner Circle, but I was impressed by them enormously. They had been around for years, beginning as kids in Kingston. In fact, this show was their 30th year as a band, though the only two original members were the brothers Ian & Roger Lewis, the former on bass and vocals, the later on guitar and vocals. Some former members of the band split off to make the band Third World.

I was disappointed that Junior Murvin didn’t make it to open that show for some unknown reason. He will always be known for his song singing “Police & Thieves” with his haunting falsetto, though most the world and myself would first hear that song from The Clash cover of it. Sadly, I would never get the chance to see him again as Murvin would pass away in 2013 from diabetes and hypertension. Inner Circle had just released a greatest hits album when we did this gig and as always I’d hoped they’d release a live album from what we recorded, but it never happened, partially since they had already out a live album in 1995. Hearing them again, one can only wonder what life would have been like if that song never became the song for that show. Perhaps Inner Circle would would have faded to obscurity, perhaps that song would have been revered on its own merits. Regardless, it made the band a ton of money and led others to explore their music further and that is a good thing. I’m glad Pete was there to record that night, since I was exhausted from working The Crystal Method show at The Warfield into the wee hours of the night before and it was nice to hang with him, relax, shoot the breeze, and pass joints as always.

Rakim, Zion-I, Most Chill Slackmob, Cytoplasm, Maritime Hall, SF, Sun., March 15, 1998

SETLISTS:

(MOST CHILL SLACKMOB) : You Might Not Know, 1 Step, The Underground, Deeper, (unknown), Funky Fresh, Criteria, Yum Yum, Over My Head

(RAKIM) : It’s Been A Long Time, Move The Crowd, My Melody, Paid In Full, In The Ghetto, Microphone Fiend, The 18th Letter (Always & Forever), I Ain’t No Joke, Follow The Leader, The Punisher, Guess Who’s Back, The Saga, Don’t Sweat The Technique, Juice (Know The Ledge), Eric B. For President, I Know You’ve Got Soul, freestyle, Mahogany

On this years Ides Of March, I had the pleasure of recording the one and only Mr. William Michael Griffin, Jr., otherwise known as Rakim Allah, or more commonly known by his stage name Rakim. After joining the Nation Of Islam in 1986 and changing his name, Rakim along with his DJ partner, Eric B. made some of the most brilliant hip hop music ever produced, typifying the east coast sound. They were even nominated to the Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame in 2011. I appreciated Rakim right away for no other reason that he didn’t scream his lyrics, keeping a smooth as glass flow with his rhymes and cadence. There are really only a handful of cool rappers like Slick Rick, Q Tip, and the guys from Digable Planets who remind me of him. I’m sure live sound people appreciate that as well, though his hype men did plenty of yelling that night.

Rakim and Eric had parted ways in 1992 after “Don’t Sweat The Technique” came out as well as the movie “Juice” starring Tupac Shakur and the young Omar Epps, featuring their hit song, “Juice (Know The Ledge)”, as they were about to be released from their contract with MCA. Eric, fearing once released that Rakim would dump him, refused to sign and after years of legal wrangling, Eric would self fulfill his prophesy and Rakim would go solo without him. Rakim was touring this time around with his first solo album, “The 18th Letter”, that letter being “R” for Rakim, his first music since their split, though he also released a three song EP that year called “Stay A While”. The duo would eventually be reunited in 2017, though I would miss the show they’d do at The Fillmore on that tour, it selling out instantly. I remember my friend Zeph who was a DJ commenting about that show around that time at work casting doubt if Eric would show up as he had a reputation for being an unreliable drunk.

Opening that night were Cytoplasm and a surprisingly entertaining group called the Most Chill Slackmob.  Continuing the Maritime’s history of misspelling things on their monthly poster, they were billed simply as “Slackmob”. They were fronted by a jovial fellow with dreads named Ngaio Bealum, his rapping partner MoMo describing on stage as “220 lbs. of chocolate love”, who was not only a talented musician, but a comedian, writer, actor, and I just learned a juggler to boot. Ngaio would host and promote many marijuana legalization events as well and their music reflected their love for the herb repeatedly. He even taunted the crowd asking if they were “the only people who brought weed” and cynically dismissing one of the guys up front who offered them rolling papers instead. Both he and MoMo had excellent diction, their DJ scratched skillfully, and they had a rock study drummer named Scott, who Ngaio described as a “preacher’s kid, Italian, and naughty”. Ngaio would hit a pair of conga drums from time to time and MoMo would even play the harmonica on a couple songs. 

Ngaio even busted out a trombone during their reggae song, “Deeper”. That guy cracks me up with his lyrics. I’ll never forget one line he had saying he comes like “Latrell when I’m chokin’ the coach” during the song “Funky Fresh”, a reference to the recent event the previous December where Golden State Warrior Latrell Sprewell lost his cool and attempted to strangle head coach P.J. Carlesimo. Like I said, I liked these guys and the crowd seemed to respond mostly well to them, though they did one thing that I thought was a bad move on stage. Near the end of their set, Ngaio announced that they’s be doing a show at The Fillmore at the end of the month with Dub Nation and Native Elements, probably unaware that BGP was the Maritime’s competition. He even mentioned it twice but I guess Boots didn’t hear it or cared since the Slackmob would return to play the Hall again a couple more times.

Eventually, Rakim made it to the stage adorned in a simple black hoodie and one of his hype men was wearing a Brett Favre jersey and they opened with the apropos, “It’s Been A Long Time”. Song after song, Rakim played the hits and between songs halfway through the show, the guys on stage did a long bit trying to get their side of the crowd to scream the loudest, goading the others, shouting, “fuck that side!”. It was pretty hot in that show for being in the middle of March and Rakim helped give out water to people in the front saying it was “hot as a motherfucker up in here”. There were several shout outs to Oakland to the point where it was getting repetitive. When they got to the song, “Follow The Leader”, a chair was brought out on stage and Rakim sat and rapped in it all the way through the song, reminiscent of the way he sat during the music video for it. 

They were going to leave after “I Know You Got Soul”, Rakim claiming that he was “fucking tired”, but his hype man goaded him back on stage. They did a few minutes of freestyle before inviting a bunch of spry young ladies up on stage to join them, insisting that it be only ladies, repelling the men who attempted to join them. Those girls were definitely getting their freak on for that encore. They finished the night with “Mahogany” and that would be the last time I’d see Rakim. As impressed as I was, I didn’t really get into his music until a few years ago, picking up one of their greatest hits albums. Hopefully, he’ll tour again some day and I will make up for missing him and Eric at the show back in 2017.

Clutch, Sevendust, Dork, Maritime Hall, SF, Tues., March 17, 1998

SETLIST : The House That Peterbilt, Wishbone, Big News 1 & 2, Rock & Roll Outlaw, The Elephant Riders, Ship Of Gold, Droid, Escape From Prison Planet, Texan Book Of The Dead, Green Buckets, Eight Times Over Miss October, The Soapmakers, 7 Jam

This show stood out at first primarily for who wasn’t on the bill, the supposed headliner Limp Bizkit. For whatever reason, they didn’t make it and Clutch was bumped up to be headliner and they added the local band Dork at the last minute. One reason they weren’t there might be that during this tour, dubbed the “Ladies Night In Cambodia” tour, Limp Bizkit was offering the first 200 women who showed up to see them free admission, 100 women in some other clubs. Personally, I think that was a smart move by that band, seeing that their fan base was primarily all too masculine. Knowing Boots, he would probably have none of this promotional concept, but I can’t say for sure. To compensate for their absence, the ticket price was lowered from $14 to $10, though I imagine those who had bought their tickets in advance were out of luck. Frankly, I was relieved that Limp Bizkit wasn’t there, as I was not a fan of their music, especially their nauseating cover of “Faith” by George Michaels.

Clutch on the other hand were a great band and we were also being revisited by Sevendust, who had played at the Maritime only a couple months before in January. They paired well together. I’d seen Clutch once before briefly in 1994 opening for Sepultura at The Warfield. They were from Maryland and by then were just about to release their third album, “The Elephant Riders” that April, their first album on a major label, being Columbia. Their singer, Neil Fallon, even mentioned that they had some cassettes to give away later that had some of the new songs on it. They had real talent, playing bluesy hard rock reminiscent of Jimi Hendrix’s Band Of Gypsies, if that band was fronted by an agitated drunk. Not that Neil was drunk, it’s just like he sings like one, though it was appropriate that night, it being St. Patrick’s Day. The new songs were brilliant, the album having the recurring theme of an alternate history of the American Civil War where cavalry would ride elephants instead of horses. They even had a banner with their logo of a mock cavalry badge with an elephant head and rifles. I wouldn’t have long until I’d get to see Clutch again since they would open for Slayer at the Warfield only two months later, though that would be the last time I’d see them play.

Pigface, Tribes Of Neurot, FM Einheit, Not Breathing, Bagman, Fill., SF, Thur., March 19, 1998

Up till then, I was fairly well versed with the industrial metal crowd. I’d seen Ministry, Nine Inch Nails, KMFDM, and Front 242 before, a few a number of times and even the first show I ever saw was Public Image, Ltd. But there were much more out there and Pigface was one of them. This was supergroup formed during Ministry’s 1989-1990 your by their drummers Martin Atkins and William Rieflin, looking to expand their musical horizons. Though Martin would remain as the bands sole founding member, the sheer volume of touring members and collaborators over the years would be breathtaking, perhaps even in competition for a a World’s Record. Former Pigface members would include such notable musicians as Trent Reznor from Nine Inch Nails, Paul Barker & Chris Connelly from Ministry, ohGr from KMFDM, David Yow from the Jesus Lizard, Flea from the Chili Peppers, and Lydia Lunch. Pigface had just released their latest album, “A New High In Low” the previous August, but were also just about to release an album of remixed songs called “Below The Belt” a month later. Incidentally, the Nine Inch Nails song, “Suck”, was originally recorded as a Pigface song.

This line up gracing the stage of The Fillmore that night was a cavalcade of stars from the genre and one of the brightest ones that attracted me to this show was Bagman, AKA Lee Fraser from Sheep On Drugs. It was just him that night without singer King Duncan, but I was glad to see his freaky, emaciated self all the same, spinning drum and bass techno stuff and grunting out gibberish to the crowd now and then. The band Scorn had been on other legs of that tour, but member Mick Harris, the former drummer from Napalm Death, couldn’t be there that night with the band, since he and his wife just had a baby girl. Multi-instumentalist Frank Martin Strauss, otherwise known by his stage name FM Einheit, was taking a break from his other band Einsturzende Neubauten, to do his weird thing next. Finally, there was the Tribes Of Neurot, a hybrid project featuring members of Neurosis and Scott Ayers, formerly of Pain Teen. They were strictly a noise band and frankly I thought they were unlistenable. When Pigface followed them, it was a relief, like somebody removing a phillips head screwdriver from one of my ear canals. But hey, some people like that stuff, I guess. Needless to say, each band was pretty loud and I was glad I was there since shows in this genre were rather rare for The Fillmore.

Pigface was no exception and proved to be quite the party on stage, a motley crew indeed. Altogether, there must of been nearly 40 musicians between all the acts. Though I thought Pigface’s music wasn’t as catchy as some of the more popular industrial acts I mentioned earlier, I have to admit, I’ll never, EVER, forget their song, “Hips, Tits, Lips, Power!” which they played for the first song of their encore. Part of the reason was they were repeating those four words over and over again, hissing each syllable like a snake, but I was also quite smitten by singer Meg Lee Chin who strutted around in her sexy black bra and bobbed black hair all the while. She even did a bit singing along, pointing to her hips, tits, and lips, as each word passed before finishing by flexing her bicep to “Power!” I regret this would be the only time I’d see her or Pigface. Turns out, she studied sound at SF State as well, though a few years before I went to school there. During their last song, they even did a few lines from Black Sabbath’s “War Pigs”, the disco hit, “Play That Funky Music White Boy” and “Flashlight” by P-Funk, who I’d just seen the previous December at the Maritime. Sadly, there was no poster given out that night.

Hieroglyphics, Rasco, Maritime Hall, SF, Thurs., March 19, 1998

After seven months on the road, the Hieroglyphics were back home in the bay area again and gracing the stage at the Maritime. Their first album, “Third Eye Vision” was just on the cusp to be released to the public, the following tuesday after this very show in fact. So, the whole crew and then some were there, the Souls Of Mischief, Casual, Del Tha Funkee Homosapien, The Prose, as well as the Living Legends, the Mystik Journeymen, Grouch, Arata, Aesop, Eligh, Murs, and a few I’ve probably forgotten. Rasco was there that night as well opening the show and he was in fine form, warming up the crowd.

There was a bit of a dust up earlier when the pre-show DJ put on a track by Jermaine Dupri and received a chorus of boos from the audience. I guess Dupri wasn’t down with the real hip hop crowd, that or they resented his work producing Kris Kross. Other than that it was a real party in the crowd, on stage, and off. No better example of the revelry that night was Del, who clearly had too much to drink and God knows what else before he performed. He admitted that he was a little “juiced” and slurred his way through his hit songs, “Dr. Bombay” and “Mista Dobalina”, struggling to keep time, before shambling over to the corner of the stage to take a seat, watching the rest of the crew do their stuff. 

Del was going through a little bit of a rough patch at that time obviously. He managed to put together his third solo album the previous November, “Future Development”, his first album in five years, but was dropped from Elektra a month after its release. Jerks did it just before Christmas no less. That’s show biz. He was able to get the album out through Hiero’s independent record label shortly afterward, Hieroglyphics Imperium Recordings, but only in tape cassette form. Thankfully, they re-released it again in 2002. Other artists that night were a little more spry, such as Arata, who got some applause when he rapped in his native Japanese for a bit. Murs, dressed head to toe in battle fatigues, got the crowd jumping too. We were spoiled back then, especially me being able to record them so often at the Hall, and it wouldn’t be long, just until that October until the Hiero crew were back on that stage again, doing what they do best.

Strictly Roots with Neal Schon, Boom Shaka, Caribbean All-Stars, Native Elements, Maritime Hall, SF, Fri., March 20, 1998

Strictly Roots had been around for as long as I’d been seeing live music in the bay area, always as an opener, but in this tragic instance, it would be the one and only time I’d see them as a headliner. Less than two months before this show, their lead singer and founder, Jahson, died unexpectedly at the young age of 48, coincidentally the same age as I am writing this now. He had just finished performing at a show in San Francisco, went to sleep, and peacefully died of heart failure. I had heard that the last show was played at the Last Day Saloon, which would have been an ironic venue to play your last show in, but I can’t confirm that. This show would be a memorial as well as a fundraiser for his family and I have to give Boots credit for letting them put this on, another piece of evidence that the Maritime’s tyrannical owner had a heart after all.

The surprising thing about this show, other than Jahson’s untimely death, was the fact that Neal Schon was playing with Strictly Roots that night. Neal, the guitar wizard from Journey, had been playing professionally since the age of 17, having turned down  to opportunity to join Eric Clapton when he was in Derek & The Dominos to play with Carlos Santana when Carlos was just getting started with the Abraxas band. Not only did Neal do that, but he also played with the supergroup Bad English, Hardline, the Caribbean All-Stars (who were also on the bill that night), and had put out a few solo albums of his own, including the double album, “Electric World” which he released on my birthday the year before. My partner Pete, having recorded Santana’s album with the Caribbean All Stars years before at his studio and being an all around mainstay amongst musical circles in the north bay, knew Neal who popped by the recording room to touch base with him. I found Neal to be a warm and friendly fellow, making me regret not seeing Journey before and gave me a new found appreciation for his talent, despite how annoyed I would become with their hit song, “Don’t Stop Believing”. That tune would be the bane of every citizen in the whole bay area soon enough when it not only became famous being played at the end of the finale of “The Sapranos”, but would become the theme song for The Giants when they started winning World Series’ in 2010.

Neal had met Jahson and his band in San Rafael not long before this just by chance. He had been in the audience for one of their shows in San Rafael and was so impressed, that he asked near the end of their show if he could sit in with them for a song or two. Jahson obliged him, knowing what an honor it would be to have such a renowned guitarist to share the stage with him, though some of the younger members of the band had no idea who he was at the time. Jahson’s son, Rason Jahmal, would go on to take over the band for his father and was obviously there at the Maritime to lead them that night. Local reggae acts Native Elements and Boom Shaka were also there to lend support. Truth be told, I miss Jahson. I felt sorry for dismissing him as a white reggae pretender and comparing him to Chewbacca. I hope if I’m lucky enough to get to heaven and bump into him, he’d accept my apology.

Bow Wow Wow, Soulstice, Maritime Hall, SF, Sat., March 21, 1998

The 80’s had been in the rearview mirror of history just long enough by this time that the decade’s music was just beginning to be revisited as golden oldies, or throwbacks, or whatever you’d like to call them. Some of the acts that had made names for themselves then, being one hit wonders like Bow Wow Wow, found themselves in the position to tour again with an audience willing to come out and buy a ticket for nostalgia’s sake. Some of them by this time old enough to have children, would bring them along, hoping to bond with them by exposing them to the music of their youth and in doing so reclaiming a little of their own. You know you’re getting on in age when you show up to shows and people are bringing their kids. 

So, the Hall got the chance to get Bow Wow Wow first when they decided to reunite and reacquaint themselves with the world, embarking on their “Barking Mad” tour. We weren’t actually allowed to record that night, sadly. Though I rarely know the reasons why bands shoot us down, I expect that since they hadn’t played together in 15 years, they were a little nervous and rusty and weren’t confident that it would be the best reflection of their talent. Bow Wow Wow had formed way back in 1980, the brainchild of Malcolm McLaren, the svengali who infamously concocted up the Sex Pistols. Malcolm had poached a couple members from Adam Ant’s band and recruited Annabella Lwin, an English/Burmese girl who was only 13 at the time. They had a huge hit with the song, “I Want Candy”, and would tour non stop to the point where the band would come apart and ultimately fire Annabella abruptly in 1983.

Funny story about that hit song, I as most people had thought that it was written by them originally, but it was in fact a cover written originally by a band called The Strangeloves in 1965. The Strangeloves were from New York City, and in an effort to make themselves stand out from the crowd, they adopted foreign personas. At first they tried to be English, but their accents were so unconvincing, that they switched to pretending to be Australian. Similar to bands like The Ramones and The Donnas, they adopted the band’s name into their stage names, calling themselves Giles, Niles, and Miles Strange and claimed that they were ex-sheep farmers. Anyway, I had the night off since we weren’t recording and enjoyed the show. Luckily, I’d be able to see Bow Wow Wow a couple more times in the future when they toured with fellow 80’s musical contemporaries, Devo, once at the Paramount Theater in 2005 and again at Bill Graham Civic in 2006. The latter show, performed on Halloween weekend, they would be part of an all 80’s nostalgia line up also including Missing Persons, A Flock Of Seagulls, and When In Rome. As you can imagine, there were a lot of people dolled up in full 80’s regalia, though I dressed up as Wolverine for that one.

The Specials, Filibuster, Maritime Hall, SF, Wed., March 25, 1998

I had the honor to see The Specials twice before at The Fillmore once in 1994 and the other the year before this, but having them at the Hall was different. This time I was recording them and like fellow Englishmen, The Damned, who played the month before at the Maritime, I was responsible for taping my heroes. Once again, Pete was gracious enough to allow me this one, knowing how important this band was to me and I was grateful. I did my best, but always knowing in the back of my mind that Pete would have mixed it better. His skills kept me on my toes and striving to do my best. This was a good week for ska music at the Hall, since coincidentally the Ska Against Racism show would play there the following Sunday. I’m sure there were fans there that attended both shows. 

The Oscars were on the weekend before this show and “Titanic” had their big night and we at the Maritime were oblivious that the venue would hit the proverbial ice in a couple years and sink as well as the doomed ship. Until then, I was sailing on high that night. The Specials had just released “Guilty ’Til Proved Innocent!” just the day before this show, their first album of original material in 13 years. The new songs were good, they sounded like Specials songs. One in particular, “Running Away”, was simply “Monkey Man” done over again with new lyrics. Otherwise, they played all the hits and Neville as usual, ran around shirtless, showing off his muscles and Rod filled in for all the Terry Hall vocal parts again. Naturally, I wished that something could have been released from the recordings done at this show, but alas, it never happened. Once again, like The Damned, The Specials had no shortage of live material released of their own.

Ska Against Racism : Less Than Jake, The Toasters, Blue Meanies, 5 Iron Frenzy, MU330, Kemuri, Bruce Lee Band, Critical Mass, Maritime Hall, SF, Sun., March 29, 1998

Like I mentioned in the last show review, it was a good week for ska music at the Maritime. The Specials had just played the previous Wednesday and this show had an extensive line up of brilliant newer ska acts, with the exception of The Toasters, who had been around since 1981, though frontman Robert “Bucket” Hingley would be the only original member at this show. The Ska Against Racism tour was the brainchild of Mike Park, the singer/saxophonist from Skankin’ Pickle, who I knew from my video work I’d done with that band years before. He had moved on from his original DIY record label, Dill Records, to form Asian Man Records in 1996, and was already amassing an impressive roster of talent. He brought along several of those bands along for this festival to raise money for anti-hate groups like The Museum Of Tolerance and Artists For A Hate-Free America. I was pleasantly surprised to see that Mike has since become a minister in the Universal Life Church and officiates weddings on the side. Seriously, if I only knew, maybe I would have asked him to do mine. Incidentally, my sixth anniversary with my wife is this week.

Anyway, it was good to see Mike again, I having really not seen him since he left Skankin’ Pickle, who dissolved entirely two years before this show. I could tell Mike was impressed by the recording room and was amenable to the whole thing which was a relief to me. Since then, Mike had his hands full with his record label, but still found time to play sax with other bands, including a couple who were on the bill that night, Less Than Jake and Kemuri, a Japanese-American band from Oxnard. I really liked them and they wowed the crowd early, especially when they played a couple songs in Japanese. If that wasn’t enough, Mike had his own band there that night which he called the Bruce Lee Band. He had to change the name to the “B. Lee Band” when he released albums for legal reasons, but I’m sure Bruce would have approved of Mike’s good work if he had lived. Even if Bruce didn’t like ska, he would have undoubtedly admired Mike’s work ethic and generosity.

Also there was Five Iron Frenzy from Denver, who had the unique distinction of being a Christian ska band, though they made a point not to be dogmatic and denounce intolerance as well as the church’s less than flattering human rights record. They would do other charity gigs, even doing one called “Rock Your Socks Off” which had fans bring clean pairs of socks to donate, the one article of clothing that homeless need that usually never gets attention. I liked their name, derived from the roommate of one of the band members who became paranoid and tried to defend himself with a golf club. They had just released the album, the appropriately titled, “Our Newest Album Ever!” just four months before this show. Before them they had MU330 from St. Louis, named after their high school music class, as well as The Blue Meanies, and Critical Mass.

Rounding out the bill would be Less Than Jake from Gainesville, Florida. Their name was derived from drummer and lyricist Jake Fiorello’s English Bulldog, who his parents complained that their music was annoying. They were still fairly new back then, but would soon release the “Hello Rockview”, their second album on the Capitol Records label that October, and they were riding high on ska’s third wave. They would go on to play larger venues in the future which I’d have the pleasure to see, including a couple shows at The Warfield. It was great as always to see The Toasters again and they played “Matt Davis” and “East Side Beat” at the end of their set as usual. Ska fans are lucky to have had them all these years, they touring pretty consistently and with affordable ticket prices. Likewise, even though this was a fundraiser, the tickets were only $15, a steal for the amount of talent that performed at that show, about two bucks a band, really.

Portishead, War., SF, Tues., March 31, 1998

SETLIST : Humming, Numb, Cowboys, Wandering, Mysterons, Mourning Air, Half Day, Over, Elysium, Only You, All Mine, Glory Box, Sour Times, (encore), Roads, Western Eyes, Strangers

It had only been three months, but Portishead was already back playing the Warfield again, this time for a two night stint. I would unfortunately be only able to see the first night, since I’d be working at the Maritime the following night for Crash Worship, quite a different experience entirely I assure you. Even though it had been such a short time since I’d seen them, I was ecstatic to get the chance. Their last show really was incredible and I was in love with their music as well as literally in love with their singer, Beth Gibbons. I know I wasn’t alone in that sentiment. I just wish she didn’t smoke, especially on stage while she’s singing as she did that night, a strange and unhealthy thing for a professional singer to do. These shows had the added bonus of having an awesome poster given out at the end of the night as well as being the last shows of their tour. San Francisco is often the city where many US tours end or beginning, being geographically on the extreme end of the country. I like last shows of a tour. One can really sense the relief and gratitude the artists feel at the end of the night, especially when they’re all sick of each other. Incidentally, it was my mother’s 59th birthday that day and in hindsight, I should have bought her a ticket to this one. She probably would have appreciated their music.

Though each night’s set was identical, the second night had the distinction of being the one where Portishead’s hit song, “Sour Times”, would be recorded and used in their upcoming live album, “Roseland NYC Live”, released the following November. It would be the only song on that album that wouldn’t be recorded at Roseland. With the set lists the same, at least I didn’t miss any alternate songs and a good recording of the second day was easy to find on YouTube anyway. The show was the same as the show in December, though I wasn’t complaining, since it was equally as enjoyable. Even the DJ Andy Smith, pretty much spun the same tunes before their set, including the broke down version of “Come Clean” by Jeru Tha Damaja. Sadly, this would be the last time I’d see Portishead perform and I deeply regret not seeing their reunion in 2011. I missed Beth when she toured as a soloist as well, but I have enjoyed instrumentalist Geoff Barrow’s composing since, most notably the soundtracks for the films “Ex Machina” and “Annihilation”.

One strange thing happened at that show, which upset me initially, though I find it hilarious now. At the end of Portishead’s set, I went up to the balcony to ask the front of house sound guy if I could get the setlist as I usually did. He gave it to me without even blinking an eye and I went home with it. Upon inspecting it later, I noticed the word “ARSE”, written on the back of it in large black marker capital letters. I must have been drunk at the time, because my knee jerk reaction was that it was directed towards me. It never occurred to me that not only the sound man didn’t write it after I asked him, but also that he would have written it beforehand as a pre-emptive insult to any twerp like myself who would ask for it later. In hindsight, he probably wrote it to flash to somebody on stage during the soundcheck or the show to crack them up. Well, I called my girlfriend Lisa, who I knew would be ushering on the second night,  in a drunken tizzy and asked her to confront the sound man over this, leaving a rambling clearly intoxicated message on her phone. She left me a message later, totally and understandably miffed, refusing to do so, saying that I would have to “do my own dirty work”. Naturally, I apologized to her afterwards. “Sour Times” indeed.

Crash Worship, Itchy Kitty, Maritime Hall, SF, Wed., April 1, 1998

If there ever was a band that will leave one with that “what the fuck just happened?” feeling, it is Crash Worship. Seriously, the previous November when I saw the bacchanalian debauchery of Jane’s Addiction’s show at the Bill Graham Civic, I joked that if Moses had come down from Mount Sinai and witnessed it, he might have felt bad on how harshly he treated the Hebrews revelry with the Golden Calf. Well, if he saw what I saw this fateful April Fool’s Eve, he would have put his hands up, horrified, slowly backed away without a word, and gone back up the mountain. I’m sure anyone who has witnessed one of their performances would agree, it’s something you never will forget. Even my partner Pete, who had seen quite a lot in his day including a number of hippie orgies and the antics of the Mitchell Brothers, was impressed. He would take his copy of the video from that night and have perverse delight showing it to his friends from out of town afterwards as an example of a “typical night in San Francisco”.

To even say they are a band is misleading to begin with. They are more of an ever changing artist collective of musicians, drummers, dancers, performance artists, amateur arsonists, even a bagpipe player. Formed initially in San Diego in 1986, Crash Worship had been making the rounds playing underground raves and the occasional venue. Rumors of what went on circulated and I heard a few, but nothing too specific. They had the reputation for playing a venue once… once. And what I saw that night made it painfully clear why that was the case. Indeed, I imagine that Maritime Hall had the distinction of being one of the only if not the only venue to allow them back to play a second time in 1999, one of their final shows altogether. 

They were a band insomuch as they had put out albums, but they never played anything they recorded live and the stuff they did play, well, let’s just say that even the band members didn’t know where the songs were going. The music would primarily be driven by the drummers, at least two or three of them, most of which were shirtless and standing at their kits. One I know for sure was a fellow named Simon Cheffins, a founding member of the group. While they hammered away, one or two of them would blurt out gibberish, sounding like pentecostal snake handlers speaking in tongues. I was able to make out one time during the beginning of the show where one of the singers shouted something about everybody now being in “the 4th Dimension”, but that was about it. All the while this was going on, various buxom, topless young ladies, one wearing a giant bunny head, the others with thick black eye make up similar to Pris in “Blade Runner”, would bump, grind, and undulate to the rhythm. Technically, California law prohibits such nudity at a place serving alcohol, but as a horny 25 year old back then, no complaints were heard from me. 

But that was what was just happening on stage. Out in the audience was a different situation entirely. I don’t know if the Fire Marshall was in the house during this event, but if he was, clearly he wasn’t playing attention. Every manner of firework was being set off, stings of firecrackers and roman candles to be sure. Torches were everywhere and there even was an exotic dancer who had sort of candelabra-like fixtures on her hands and was swirling them around as she danced. At one point, a fireball went up in the middle of the dance floor, which would leave a conspicuous black mark on the floor afterward. It’s probably still there to this very day.  If that wasn’t enough, a couple women wearing G-strings were carried around in what looked like kiddie pools, or maybe it was an aluminum tub, who would periodically douse themselves and anyone in splash distance in blood.

All the while this is going on, random drummers, a couple carrying large bass drums, people spinning around glow sticks on strings, and all manner of weirdos would circulate, their glistening bodies aglow from the various flames, strobe lights, and pyrotechnics. One of the singers, I believe he was known as JXL, would ask the lighting guy in the beginning to turn off the all the lights, so the performance would be lit by only these sources, but I think he had the good sense to leave a dim wash of lights on stage, if only to provide a modicum of safety. He asked Chris upstairs by name to turn off the projections for one of the songs as well. One part of the show I’ll never forget for some reason was an interlude between songs where there was a recording played of a man and woman arguing with thick German accents. The woman would shout, “There is nothing to discuss!”, followed by a chorus of people shouting it after her. Then the man would retort, “There is plenty to discuss!”, he too followed by a chorus of people shouting what he said after him. This went on for a bit, interlaced with the woman shouting, “Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye!”. Where the hell this bit came from is anyone’s guess, but it probably was from some old cult movie. Traumatizing as the whole experience was, I was grateful to have witnessed it and even more grateful to have the honor to say I’d witness it twice, before Crash Worship would ultimately dissolve. Their legacy lives on in our scarred psyches now.

Robert Hunter, Maritime Hall, SF, Thurs., April 2, 1998

SETLIST : Mission In The Rain, Cumberland Blues, Jack Straw, Hilly & Gully Run, New Speedway Boogie, Dire Wolf, Crucifixion, Dead Man Dancing, Song Remains, Doin’ That Rag, Fishin’ Blues, Stagger Lee, Friend Of The Devil, Aim At The Heart, Wharf Rat, The Wind Blows High, Black Peter, Promontory Rider, Scrap Of Moonlight, Ripple, Boys In The Barroom 

There were numerous reasons why the Grateful Dead were as big as they were and the lyrics of Robert Hunter were no small part of it. Indeed, even the most devout Deadhead had their complaints about the band, like Bob Weir’s cheesiness, Mickey Hart’s arrogance, and the nights when the band simply wasn’t on their A game. Fans would look at each other, shrug a little, and just keep dancing. But one element of that band I never heard so much as a peep of complaint over was their lyrics, at least of the songs Hunter wrote. He was a poet at the very least, writing the words for scores of their songs, many of which would be their most beloved. To this day, I find myself moved when I hear his work sung in such tunes as “Ripple”, “Uncle John’s Band”, “Terrapin Station”, and “Box Of Rain”. 

Mr. Hunter passed away a couple years ago and he remains to this day the only person inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame who was a non-performer. When the Dead were brought in during the 1994 ceremony, it would have been criminal to leave him behind. Not to say that the man couldn’t perform, which leads me to this show. Yes, he wasn’t the most dazzling singer or guitarist in the world, but the songs were his own. In fact, he was one of the first people Jerry Garcia ever performed music with. When Jerry was only 18 and Robert 19, back when Robert was still known by his birth name Robert Burns, they met and formed the folk duo Bob & Jerry and from there, the rest was history. I had hoped that some members of the Dead would perform with him that night, but as far as I knew, none of them were in the house. I know for a fact that Weir was out of town with Ratdog, who would play in Philadelphia the following night.

This show, the third show of Hunter’s tour that year, was a benefit for the Street Outreach Services, a mobile charity group that assists homeless people on their own turf. I once again have to give credit to the Maritime’s tyrannical leader Boots for hosting so many charity events at the Hall during his reign. The more I write about these shows, the more of these events I discover were for good causes. Despite the absence of the Dead that night, there were plenty of devotees in the house to pay homage to their humble lyricist and everybody knew the words, at least to the Dead songs he played. This would be the only time I’d see Hunter perform, though he went on to collaborate and write songs for such other performers of note as Bob Dylan, Elvis Costello, and one time Dead member and piano virtuoso Bruce Horsnby.

Spearhead, Josh Jones & Hueman Flavor, Fill., SF, Fri., April 3, 1998

SETLIST : Chocolate Supa Highway, Run 4 Ya’ Life, ‘Course Ya’ Can, Sunshine, Food 4 Da Masses, U Can’t Sing, Luv Iz Da Shit, Slave Ship, Hole In Da Bucket, Piece O’ Peace, The Payroll (Stay Strong), I’m Coming Out, Red Beans & Rice, Why Oh Why, Red Man, People In Da Middle, I’ll Be There, Keep Me Lifted, Positive

Spearhead’s hard work was gradually paying off, they landing their first gig that night headlining a show at The Fillmore. I’d first seen them in one of their debut live performances at Slim’s in 1994, then opening for the Digable Planets at The Fillmore in ’95, and once more as one of the first acts on the roster of the Smokin’ Grooves tour at Shoreline in ’96, so by this time, I knew their music pretty well. They had just released their second album, “Chocolate Supa Highway” the previous March and this would be the first time I’d hear some of the new songs. They only played the title track, “Why Oh Why”, and “Keep Me Lifted”, but they were all great, easily as good as their previous work. They even had Zap Mama and Joan Osborne contribute their talents on a couple tracks. This would also be the year that Michael Franti started performing his annual Power To The Peaceful festivals, though I wouldn’t see my first one of those until 2001, which would have an especially somber significance since it would happen only a few weeks after 9/11. The festival initially was in support of Mumia Abu-Jamal, the imprisoned activist accused of killing a police officer, but it took on broader social issues as the years went on.

It had been a long week, this being the fourth show in a row for me and the night was tempered with the news of the tragic death of Rob Pilatus from Milli Vanilli, who passed away from an accidental alcohol and prescription drug overdose that day. As a fellow dreadlocked musician, I don’t know if Michael Franti was phased by it, but he carried on regardless. Michael also got married that year to Tara Franti-Rye and together they would sire a son named Ade. Opening that night was Josh Jones and his band Hueman Flavor. Josh, a Berkeley High graduate, had been a long time alumni of the acid jazz scene in San Francisco playing places like the Elbo Room and the Up & Down Club regularly, and I’m sure Franti was familiar with his work, having collaborated with Charlie Hunter and others from that genre. He was an excellent drummer backed by a skillful band, including Jeff Chimenti on keys, a former member of fellow acid jazz group Alphabet Soup. Jeff would go on to play with various Grateful Dead off shoots like RatDog and with Phil Lesh and the Dead. Coincidentally, I had just help record a show with the lyricist of the Grateful Dead, Robert Hunter, the night before at the Maritime. Small world, eh? We had an added bonus having none other than Money-B from Digital Underground come out and join Josh and his band, who I’d just see rapping with a multitude of others at the Kool Keith show also at the Maritime just that January.

Spearhead covered a lot of territory that night musically, including playing bits of several covers as the evening progressed. During “Food 4 Da Masses”, the bass player hit a few riffs from “Rapper’s Delight” by the Sugarhill Gang and during “Hole In Da Bucket”, they would sing the chorus from “Get Up, Stand Up” by Bob Marley. From there, they did a little bit from “Knee Deep” by P-Funk, who I’d just help record once again at the Maritime for two shows the previous December. In addition to that, before they sang “The Payroll (Stay Strong)”, they did a medley which included James Brown’s “I Feel Good” and the disco classic, “Got To Be Real” by Cheryl Lynn. Finally, they did a little of “I’m Coming Out”, another disco classic by Diana Ross before they went into “Red Beans & Rice”. 

Franti took a moment that night to recognize the labor leader Cesar Chavez, whose birthday was only a few days before this show, coincidentally the same day as my mother’s. He had passed away a little over five years before this show and in his honor, Army Street in the Mission was renamed after him in 1995. Franti noted that the process would have been been completed overnight if they wanted to rename it after Joe Montana. I suppose he had a point. I’m sure Joe has a street named after him somewhere anyway. It wouldn’t be long until I’d see him and Spearhead again, since they would be on the bill at the Mountain Aire Festival the following month up in Angel Camp in Calaveras County. Spearhead had a good poster from the Fillmore that show and would go on to play that venue several more times in the years to come, though this would be the last time I’d see them there.

Dub Syndicate, Word Sound I-Powa, Maritime Hall, SF, Sat., April 4

SETLIST : The Show Is Coming, Emmanuel, Wake Up, 2003 Struggle, Glory To God, Hey Geoff, Wadada (Means Love), Dub Addis Ababa, No Lightweight Sound, Higher Than High

It is the height of irony that I nearly didn’t write about this show. In transcribing the list of Maritime Hall shows onto my list of bootlegs, this would be the one show I accidentally pass over and not notice, until by chance, I glanced at the Maritime’s monthly poster a couple days ago and realized that I missed it. Why, you ask? Because this is the one show, the first show, that a recording of mine at the Hall was used to make an album. I’m not entirely to blame for this, since at first, I didn’t think that the Dub Syndicate album released by the Hall in 2000 was mine to begin with. You see, they played there in 1996 with Burning Spear, just before I became Pete’s partner and since Pete was the master of all things reggae, I thought that his recording of that night was the one that was used on the album, he did so too at the time. That, coupled with the fact that my show wasn’t well attended, maybe 400 to 500 people tops, led me to believe that Pete was right. This is one of the misunderstandings that happens when live albums are released without information of exactly where, when, and by who they were recorded in the liner notes. It wasn’t until a couple days ago that I even bothered to look into it.

Well, as luck would have it, this one is indeed mine, and though Pete died last year, I at least feel a modicum of relief that I don’t have to break the news to him. Dub Syndicate was touring after releasing the album. “Fear Of A Green Planet” that literally only came out a week to the day before this performance. Their set included the new songs, “Emmanuel”, “Higher Than High”, “Wake Up”, and “Hey Geoff”. As further proof, I found a bootleg of the show they did on the same tour only three days before and the set was precisely the same. So, this one is mine… MINE, MINE, MINE, MINE, MINE!!!! OK… Sorry about that, my inner toddler is prime for a time out. It’s the sin of pride, yes. But I am proud of this one, particularly, since it would be the only reggae one I’d have under my belt. Though one or two of the Bad Brains songs were reggae, this would be the only complete concert I’d have all to my own.

So, with that out of the way, back to the show. I knew nothing about Dub Syndicate before coming into the Hall that night and why Pete didn’t show up to do it, as he usually did for reggae shows, is still a mystery to me. I like to think that it was evidence of his growing confidence in my abilities that he would leave such a show to me, but I imagine he had better things to do and am positive that he was becoming increasingly wary of Boots’ bullshit. He knew that I’d do the work gladly and he’d still get whatever money would rain down anyway, so there it was. Thankfully, it wasn’t a hard band to mix, partially, because they were only a drummer, guitarist, bassist, and a couple keyboard players. They didn’t even sing, relying on the lyrics for their songs to be played with samples. Dub Syndicate’s players were expert studio musicians, so mixing such a band, who were already so skilled, was a walk in the park.

They were the brainchild of producer and audio extraordinaire, Adrian Sherwood, an Englishman who helped bring dub music to life and the mainstream. But that was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to his producing and recording credits. He has a laundry list of who’s who under his belt, ranging from dark industrial types like Nine Inch Nails, Depeche Mode, Ministry, Prodigy, KMFDM, and Skinny Puppy to Sinead O’Connor and Primal Scream. Though he wasn’t personally accompanying this tour, the musicians he assembled to make his music were, including the drummer virtuoso Lincoln “Style” Scott, who would lead not only this band but many others like the Roots Radics, Suns Of Arqa, Creation Rebel, and Bunny Wailer’s band. Alas, poor Style died in 2014 at the age of 58 under mysterious circumstances in Manchester Parish. Though the cause of death has never officially been released, there were gunshots and explosions heard before his body was discovered.

Of what I remember, it was a subdued show, like I said, easy to mix, the musicians basically staying put all night. Even the lights on stage were turned down more than usual. It was dub music, so most people were just chilling out, myself included, leeching off the leftover roaches Pete had in his Altoid tin behind one of our amps. This is the kind of music that doesn’t really require much of a visual aspect, the kind of music one simply goes into a meditative state and sways back and forth for hours to the incessant beat. Not to say that this music is mindless, far from it. Indeed, Adrian and Style’s work is immaculate music. I would even go so far to say that this is one of the Maritime’s best albums, but I would be understandably biased. The one complaint I’d have over it as I do over all of the Maritime’s albums is that Boots mixed it. Considering he’s mixing, and I can say this without hyperbole, the music of one of the greatest audio engineers of all time, the audacity that he thought he could mix it better than Adrian still makes my blood boil to this day. That goes the same for the Lee “Scratch” Perry album, where he took the reins from the legendary Mad Professor. But like these albums and everything else the Hall put out there, beggars can’t be choosers and I’m proud beyond words that this one is mine. But suffice to say, other critics were not so forgiving, citing Boots’ mix as the recording’s chief detriment. 

Gregory Isaacs, Cornerstone, Native Elements, Maritime Hall, SF, Tues., April 7, 1998

This would be the first time Gregory would play the Hall since we recorded him in 1996, but it wouldn’t be the last. He would return again only six months later and then once again in February of 1999, so I got to know his music pretty well. If that wasn’t enough, the Maritime’s second live album and DVD would be his, taken from that first show, the ninth show I ever helped record at the Hall, and would be released the year of this show. My memory is a little fuzzy, so I can’t rightly say exactly when that album came out in 1998 or if it was out by the time of this show, but I’m including the images of the art and liner notes just to cover my bases. As any concert junkie would admit, once you see and artist a few times, especially when they play the same venue, differentiating between the shows starts to become more challenging, especially when you don’t have the recording of the night in question to fall back on. This is one of the reasons I’m doing this project in the first place, to get the details down of what I actually do remember before I go senile, well… more senile anyway.

A perfect example of this is to speak of the band Cornerstone. One can deduce that they were a reggae band and probably local, but upon investigation into the matter, I found multiple bands of that name. It’s not the first time that has happened too. In fact, I did find a reggae band of the same name from Canada, but they had only been around since 2005. I did remember the Native Elements though, primarily because I went to school with their drummer, Chris Cortez, a nice fellow and a talented musician. They were always a reliable reggae act to open for the old school guys like Gregory, which is why they turned up at these shows so often. I’m proud of that live album we did with Gregory, even if Boots’ mix wasn’t as good as if my partner Pete did it. I was grateful for any material released from the Hall, regardless who mixed it, whether I got paid, or even if I got credit for it.

Curve, Freaky Chakra, Slim’s, SF, Wed., April 8, 1998

SETLIST : Coast Is Clear, Fait Accompli, Missing Link, Chinese Burn, Something Familiar, Recovery, Forgotten Sanity, Dog Bone, Sweetback, Dirty High, (encore), Coming Up Roses, Die Like A Dog

It had been five years since I’d last seen Curve and I was beginning to wonder where they went. They had been on hiatus since I’d seen them at Slim’s back then and during their temporary split, singer Toni Halliday and bassist Dean Garcia had been pursuing solo projects. Toni had a band for a couple years called Scylla which would have a song called “Helen’s Face” in the soundtrack for the infamous 1995 Paul Verhoven movie, “Showgirls”. She would also collaborate with a fellow named Daum Bentley and his musical project, Freaky Chakra, who would be the opener for that night. He was a pretty good DJ, as DJs go, but most of his music was just driving, steady beats, not much in the way of dynamics. He did have one song that repeated a sample over and over again saying something about the “Year 2000”, which was impending, less than 20 months away. 

Dean had a musical project of his own during those intervening years, a band called Headcase. Toni had also married producer Alan Moulder, who had done Curve’s first two albums, “Doppleganger” and “Cuckoo”. To rehash Alan’s list of professional accomplishments would take a while, but lets just say he covered the gambit when it came to the shoegazer movement back then, mixing and/or producing bands like The Jesus & Mary Chain, My Bloody Valentine, Ride, and Lush just to name a few. From there, he went into the big leagues, doing most of Nine Inch Nail’s albums and guys like U2, but enough about him. 

Speaking of the Jesus & Mary Chain, you might have read before that they were the first band I had ever ushered for when they played at the Warfield in November of 1992. Curve was one of of the opening acts, following Spiritualized, so on that distinction alone, Curve will always be special to me. I was impressed then, snatching up any records or bootlegs I could find of theirs, and was pleased that they were back on the road again with a new album called “Come Clean”, which they had just released less than two months before this show. The new songs were good, though a little faster and harder than their old stuff. Regardless, they played everything that night at ear splitting volume as usual, which was good since the recording on my tapes came out loud and clear. In fact, somebody else was taping in the audience that night and I see that their version can be downloaded on the internet as well, though I am wary to jump through some of the hoops these shady websites want me to do to get it, so I’ve let it be for now. I was delighted to find out that they would return less than three months later and even more ecstatic that they would be playing the Maritime and the Dandy Warhols would be opening for them. They would be bringing their own monitor board that time, so I wouldn’t be able to record them with the Maritime’s gear, though I would at least be able to go upstairs that night to enjoy the show and tape it with my own. Sadly, that would be the last time I’d see them, but I’ll get to that when I catch up to the shows in July.

Steve Miller Band, Eric McFadden, Fill., SF, Thur., April 16, 1998

It had been thirty years since Mr. Miller had released his first recordings and he was taking his crew around the country this year to celebrate, being billed as the “Space Cowboy” tour after the lyric of the song, “The Joker”, which he naturally played that night.  It was appropriate that one of the stops on the way would be The Fillmore, where he played so many shows back in the infancy of his career and he honored the hallowed venue with three shows in a row, though I was able only to do the first. That was fine with me, it being his first time back since I saw him with his blues band there in 1995, and I have always liked first shows of a three day stint or more. The artists are energized and even a little nervous, especially playing a venue of such esteem. I’d be working at the Maritime the next two days for Vinyl and King Diamond anyway.

Opening that night was Eric McFadden, local musician who would play often either solo or with his band, Liar. He was easy to recognize, his head crowned always with an impressive set of dreadlocks and often with a felt top hat. Strangely enough, I’d get to see him with Liar only nine days after this show when they opened for The Mother Hips at Maritime Hall. Steve covered a lot of bases that night, playing most of the golden oldies, but doing a few covers as well. Showcasing his talent and eclectic taste in music, he did a respectful version of Sam Cooke’s smooth ballad, “You Send Me” early on the set. Though he had a laundry list of former bandmates, one of the old timers that night was harmonica virtuoso, Norton Buffalo, who had been touring with him for 26 years up to that point. Norton shredded on that mouth harp of his and one can easily see how John Popper from Blues Traveler took a page from him.

One song Steve dusted off for the evening that I frankly forgot was his was “Abracadabra”, a tune by his own admission had stupid lyrics but a catchy melody. I can’t blame him though. It came out in 1982 and that was a stupid time. Didn’t harm his career none, hitting the number one spot on the Billboard 100 for two weeks and undoubtably made him a mountain of cash. I liked that they played it with a little faster tempo than the album version that night. They also played a long instrumental version of “Fly Like An Eagle” before reprising it later in the set. Steve even had his keyboardist, Joseph Wooten, brother of Flecktones bassist Victor Wooten, do a verse of rapping during the first one. That was unexpected, but also a testament to Steve’s commitment to try different genres. It would have been criminal if The Fillmore didn’t have a poster to commemorate Steve’s shows there and I’m happy to say that they printed up a good one.  

This would be the last time I’d see him and his band perform live. But with this show, the show with the blues band in 1995, and his set at the Good Road festival at Shoreline in 1992, I can at least look myself in the mirror and know I had the privilege of seeing him three times. Who knows? Though Norton died in 2009, Steve is still kicking and I might get another chance some day, but probably not. Steve’s 77 now. As further evidence of Steve turning into a cranky old man, there actually was a bit of a dust up in 2016 with him when Miller was inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame. Apparently, he was pissed that the Hall vetoed his proposal to have Elton John induct him and they had the band The Black Keys do it instead. Not knowing the band at all, Steve took it badly and publicly dissed the Hall calling the whole experience “unpleasant”. The guys from The Black Keys didn’t take his reaction well either and left the event after giving their speech.

Vinyl, Undercover S.K.A., The Cole Tate Band, Maritime Hall, SF, Fri., April 17, 1998

This night was one of the local act nights with an affordable ticket price of only $12. The crowd was sparse, but I liked the performers at that show. Vinyl had been a reliable jam band opening act for a while, having seen them open for Boz Scaggs at The Fillmore the previous October, the Greyboy All-Stars at the Maritime in 1996, and T.J. Kirk also at the Hall in 1997. They had chops and honestly they deserved to headline their own show there, despite the lackluster turnout. Also there were Undercover S.K.A., a band renowned for also being an excellent opening act. It had been a good few weeks for ska bands at the Hall, having not only The Specials play there recently, but also the Ska Against Racism tour with Less Than Jake and The Toasters. They were a funny band, all dressed in two tone suits, dark sunglasses, and short brimmed fedora hats, kind of like The Blues Brothers. Their look contributed to their “undercover” persona. 

They did have a song they played that night that would probably cause some controversy if it came out today called “My Girl Became A Dude (The Transsexual Song)”. It lamented the singers despondency of his girlfriends transition and how he “cannot love a guy” and how he was “living in a bad dream” and so on. I suppose it was appropriate that the song came from an album the put out two years before titled “Socially Unconscious” and I’d be surprised if they have played it in the last few years. Still, I find it in my heart to forgive them. It was over twenty years ago and like the title of one of their other songs, they were all indeed “Super Nice Guys”. 

On a side and more somber note, Linda McCartney, wife and longtime collaborator of Paul, passed away that day from her painful three year long battle with cancer. She would get the episode “Trash Of The Titans” of the “The Simspons” dedicated to her when it aired the following week, showing a cartoon still of her when she and Paul had done the voices of themselves for the episode “Lisa The Vegetarian” in 1995, where they and Apu encouraged Lisa to continue to be a vegetarian.

King Diamond, Pitbull Daycare, Prayer Wheel, Maritime Hall, SF, Sat., April 18, 1998

SETLIST : Welcome Home, The Invisible Guests, The Spider’s Lullaby, Sleepless Nights, Eye Of The Witch, The Trial, The Candle, Up From The Grave, The Family Ghost, Louisiana Darkness, Voodoo, Salem, One Down Two To Go, Sarah’s Night, The Exorcist, Unclean Spirits, Abigail, (encore), Halloween, (encore), Come To The Sabbath

One cannot truly know the King until you’ve seen his gruesome spectacle live in person. Yes, the only exposure up until that point, as it was the case for many bands in the 90’s for me, was the critiques of Beavis & Butthead. Not only did the King get grilled by them once, but twice, and it’s not often, if ever, that I part company with their sage opinions. Like Roger Ebert and his poor review of “Blue Velvet”, I would grow bitter at these beloved two for the shabby treatment they gave to the one Mr Kim Bendix Petersen, otherwise known as King Diamond. First off, for the song “The Bellwitch” which wasn’t played that night, Beavis said of it that he kind of felt “sorry for these guys. It’s probably not their fault that they suck so much”. Butthead replied “Yeah it is. This might be the worst crap I’ve ever seen in my life”. Beavis asked if he was “The Turdburgler” and wondered why he was the only member of the band wearing make up. Butthead then went on to suggest that “he and the band got together and stuff and said, ‘OK,man. We’re all going to wear some scary make up tomorrow. It’s going to kick some ass! This dumbass the only one stupid enough to do it.” Then Beavis chimed in laughing, “The other dudes were probably like, ‘Did you put the make up on? You dumbass! We were just joking!’” 

And for the song “The Family Ghost”, which was performed that night, Beavis taunted the King saying that he “looks like that dude from ‘Sesame Street’, The Count”. Butthead then went on imitating the Count in a Romanian accent, “Yeah, 1-nuh, 2-wah, 3-yah, 4-butt knockers!” Their biting criticism finally did give way to a bit where Beavis commented on King Diamond’s iconic microphone stand. King Diamond always had this cross composed of a femur and tibia leg bones that held his wireless mic. I’m not a betting man, but I would guess that they were made of the real thing. During his shows, he would turn the cross sideways and play it like a ukelele along side one of his guitarists. Watching him, he strums along on that cross perfectly in time. He would be an excellent guitarist himself if he wasn’t so busy doing everything he does.

Anyway, back to the cross of bones, Beavis said, “If I had a mic like that, it’s like, I’d stick a mic into every end, so I’d like have four mics, then I’d be four times as loud!”. Butthead then retorted, “No, you wouldn’t. You can only sing into one end at a time, Beavis.” Beavis shot back, “Not if I spun it around really fast”. Then Butthead responded, “Doesn’t matter how fast you spin it around, you’d still be singing into one mic at a time” Beavis insisted that he’d “spin it around really fast” of which Butthead finally relented, “I guess that might work”. 

To this day, I still have trouble understanding Mike Judge, the voice and genius behind them, ridiculing the King so cruelly. Perhaps he had a bad experience at one of his shows. Perhaps there was a bully in his past that loved King Diamond, but I have a hard time reconciling that Mike wouldn’t appreciate King Diamond’s talent, much less his theatricality and humor. Thankfully, the King would contribute his voice to another groundbreaking animated show, “Metalocalypse” years later.  If I ever have the honor of meeting Mr. Judge, I will make a point to address the issue, though I’m sure there has been no shortage of King Diamond’s minions to give him grief about it. So, in the meantime, I will focus on the show. King Diamond will always have comparisons to make up wearing, heavy metal predecessors like Alice Cooper and Kiss, and despite their contributions to arena sound and theatrics as well as their undying ability to horrify the religious right, I think the music the King made was infinitely more sophisticated than they were. His songs are brilliantly composed and easy to remember, impossible to forget in some cases. In fact, I’ll never get the chorus of “One Down Two To Go” out of my head… “You used to be so beautiful, but now you’re gonna DIE!!!!”

The King had just released his new album “Voodoo” just three weeks before this show and he was showcasing many of the the new songs, as well as the corresponding bits of storyline embedded in it. This album tells the story of a woman named Sarah who becomes possessed and has to be exorcised by none other than “Father Malone”, a clear homage to “The Exorcist”.  Opening that night were metal bands Pitbull Daycare from Texas and Prayer Wheel from Sacramento. The former would go on to have a song named “You Make Me Feel So Dead” on the soundtrack for the seminal horror movie “Saw” in 2004 and the latter was named after the spindled cylindrical wheels embroidered with phrases from the Tibetan language that Buddhists pray. Both were good, but their memories were easily blurred by the spectacle that would follow.

One cannot of course speak of King Diamond without addressing the big, giant, gargantuan, high pitched, shrieking elephant in the room which is his voice. You need only to hear it once it remember it for life. His guttural muttering gives way to a harpy like screech that is beyond belief. I find myself to this day to behold it and still believe that such sound can be uttered by a human being, but he does… somehow. All the while, he inexplicably maintains control of this voice, hitting his vocal changes masterfully. People don’t give him enough credit for the what must certainly be a lifetime of discipline honing his act and skill. My God, just try to sing like that for 60 seconds, I dare you. Now imagine that for an hour and a half. Obviously, he makes it look easy.

Pete was recording that night and he made them sound good, much better than I could have as usual. The King was joined that night with his latest line up consisting of three members of the band Mindstorm, Chris Estes on bass, Darris (Anthony) Stull and Herb Simonsen on guitar. He also had John Luke Hart, the new drummer on stage that show. They were excellent one and all and after the first couple songs, the King thanked the crowd, vowing to play a song from every album he had before continuing with “The Spider’s Lullaby”. The stage was set like a spooky cemetery in the swamp, dark and adorned with gravestones, gates, and crosses. There was no shortage of their own lights, illuminating them from below. A small riser was set in front of the drum kit where a female dummy in a white dress and blond wig would lie all throughout the show.

The voodoo exorcism theme progressed into the song “The Trial” where a girl in a white dress, her hands bound, was brought out forcefully by a muscular, sleeveless man in a black hood, who watched over her with folded arms as the King interrogated her for the crimes of witchcraft. She then was brought up onto the riser where her immolation was simulated by red lights underneath her and a fog machine, followed by her collapse and being carried off by the hooded fellow. The lights dimmed completely, the King being lit by a solitary candle that he held for the song, appropriately, “The Candle”. We had a single camera up in the balcony that night to record, camera people being hard to come by increasingly as they were not paid, and it understandably had a hard time focusing on him. The girl came back again for “Sarah’s Night”, this time in a black dress, lying down on the riser, writhing from her demon possession.

The King would go into the song “The Exorcist”, trying to purge her of her demons, waving around a cross to her and the crowd, dabbing it forward as to douse her and them in holy water. All the while, the crowd was moshing, putting their devil horns in the air, crowd floating, and screaming their heads off. Even my friend Jerry who was working as always as audio support that night had double duty repelling folks threatening to breach the stage. Jerry even had to help tackle a guy who actually did make it on stage and tried to hug the King before he was dragged off of stage right. Eventually, the girl was carried off again by the hooded guy and the set was finished with “Abigail”, which the King did, serenading an unclothed doll with a long, blonde hair and missing its right leg. The crowd was loving it as I was and chanted “Diamond! Diamond! Diamond!” during the encore break, as well as the second encore break, and at the end of the show.

There was an added bonus at the end of the night, the song for the second encore being “Come To The Sabbath” by King Diamond’s previous band Mercyful Fate and none other than Hank Shermann, Mercyful Fate’s guitarist came out to join them for that one. Clearly, the King had a great time that night, thanking the crowd over and over again, which as most people would agree obligatory, but he seemed genuinely sincere about it, saying that the fans from San Francisco always amaze him. As further evidence of the good time he had that night, Mercyful Fate would reunite and play the Hall only four months later and I would have the honor of recording that one. I’d get to see the King a couple more times in the future, but I wasn’t at the the show he did at the Hall in 2000 for the “House Of God” tour. Sadly, none of the recordings made from his band or Mercyful Fate have been released and it’s a pity since as I’ve described, they are quite a sight to see. Maybe one day the people of his native land, Denmark will actually make him King. He’s got my vote.

Eek-A Mouse, Kottonmouth Kings, Harvey Mandel, Most Chill Slackmob, Clan Dyken, Maritime Hall, SF, Sun., April 19, 1998

SETLIST (KOTTONMOUTH KINGS) : So High, What’s Your Trip?, Play On, Bump, High Society, Suburban Life, Psychedelic Funk, Misunderstood, Planet Budtron

This show didn’t take place exactly on 4/20, being a day early, but by the time Eek-A Mouse was done, it certainly was. Yep, this was a long night. The Hall had hosted the 4/20 Festival the year before with The Long Beach Dub All-Stars, the first show I would record at the Maritime all on my own, and The Sons Of Champlin also played the Hall the previous December, both benefits for the Cannibus Action Network, and this was another one for them. The legalization campaign was moving forward steadily and San Francisco always had a well earned reputation for tolerance of its consumption, especially at shows like this one. It had been two years since California passed Proposition 215, legalizing medical marijuana in California, the first in the nation. Despite continual resistance from the Feds, steps were being taken forward. During 1998, Alaska would pass Measure 8, Washington state would pass Initiative 692, and Washington D.C. would pass Ballot Initiative 59 all which also legalized medical marijuana, though the U.S. Congress blocked that last one. Guess it was a little too close to home for them then. There was an info booth near the merch guys that night that included a display featuring folks in lock-up dubbed, “Marijuana POWs”.

Pete gave me the reins of the recording room for the gig and despite his not being around, I was able to mine his Aloid tin filled with roaches that he kept hidden behind the amp rack, so I didn’t feel left out of the revelry. This show had quite the eclectic mix up of performers, a testament to the wide range of humanity that partake in the herb. First was Clan Dyken, a duo of brothers, Mark & Bear Dyken, from Calaveras, who in unto themselves played a wide range of musical styles. In 1992, they had the unique distinction of being the first musical act to record an album entirely powered by solar energy. They put their “Sundahai” album together in Hawaii and afterwards donated the solar panels they used to a local Native school. They continued their commitment to the renewable energy movement by touring with a solar powered mobile stage that unfolded from their old school bus that was fueled by vegetable oil.

Next up was the Most Chill Slackmob, which I had the pleasure of recording when they opened for Rakim, just three weeks before this show. Their frontman, Ngaio Bealum, did double duty that night, being the emcee for the evening as well as performing with his crew. It was a particular honor to record Harvey Mandel, the legendary rock guitarist from Canned Heat next. He was one of the openers for Dr. John when he played the Hall 1996, the tenth show I recorded with Pete there. That guy shreds, being one of the first guitarists to employ two handed fret board tapping, and his resume playing with everybody from the Stones, to Charlie Musselwhite, and John Mayall has earned him respect amongst his peers. 

Second to last were the Kottonmouth Kings, a collective of skater kid rappers from Orange County. They were still pretty new then, having just released their first EP called “Stoners Reeking Havoc” just that February. Even before that came out, their song “Suburban Life” was used in the soundtrack for the meta-horror film, “Scream 2” that came out the previous December. They were at first known as the P-Town Ballers, being from Placentia, then Cottonmouth, which I thought was actually a good name for a band, especially one that was as obsessed with marijuana as they were. But I imagine that name had already been taken, so they finally settled on the Kottonmouth Kings, a silly name in my opinion, but whatever. I liked them anyway. For such young punks, their songs were pretty good, catchy, funny, and memorable. There would be the unavoidable comparisons to the Beastie Boys and Cypress Hill and clearly they took a page from both of them, but at least they were derivative of bands that were actually good.

As I alluded to before, they were big weed heads and half their songs seemed to be about weed in some respect. Naturally, while they performed, joints were passed frequently amongst their members. All the while they did their thing, there was a dancer known as Pakelika on stage doing robot like movements and acts of contortion, even at one point putting one of his legs behind his neck. He was dressed head to toe in ski gear, a white ski mask, goggles, wool hat, a zebra pattern ski jacket, and boots. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was sweating profusely wearing all that having to dance under the lights of the stage as well. Sadly, Pakelika would die twelve years later at the young age of 34 from cardiac arrest brought on by an asthma attack.

Finally was Eek-A Mouse, the reggae artist of the night, who had already played the Hall twice the year before, once in May and again in November. Pete had recorded both those, being the master of all things reggae, but he left me to do this one, the second time in a month he’d leave me to record a reggae headliner. The first was Dub Syndicate whose set would be used later for their live album from the Maritime, one of my proudest achievements. Why he left me there again to record Eek-A Mouse was probably due to that he already had the last two shows under his belt and if any recording were going to be used for a live album, they were going to be his anyway, that and he was growing as sick of him as I was. Not that Eek-A Mouse and his music was bad, but he’d go on and on and on, doing his scat thing which would become intolerable, especially after a long, late night like this one, where I was already suffering from hearing fatigue. His schtick would get on any recording engineer’s nerves at that point. Indeed, nearing the end of it when he did his bit when he sings to the crowd, “Do you want the Mouse to go away?”, I would rub my temples in frustration and shout to the heavens, “YES!!!!” Understand, this was the fourth show in a row for me as well. I’d get to record one more 4/20 show the following year thankfully with with Vince Welnick from the Dead and his band The Missing Man Formation instead and the Most Chill Slackmob would return again as well. I never got tired of hearing them.

Jazz Is Dead : Billy Cobham, Jimmy Herring, Alphonso Johnson, T. Lavitz, Maritime Hall, SF, Wed., April 22, 1998

I’ve always said that the Dead were mostly a cover band to begin with, playing about half their songs from other artists and the songs they composed, at least their best ones, had their lyrics done by Robert Hunter. He, coincidentally, had just performed as a solo artist at the Hall only three weeks before this show. This one was an assembly of renowned jazz fusion artists, most notably the one and only Billy Cobham, here playing drums. Even I had heard about this guy and I knew next to nothing about jazz. Among his many accomplishments, he would be mostly remembered for collaborating with Miles Davis, especially for his seminal album, “Bitches Brew”.

The others included, guitarist Jimmy Herring, who played with Widespread Panic and Aquarium Rescue Unit, Alphonso Johnson, the bassist from Weather Report, and T. Lavitz, the keyboardist from the Dixie Dregs. Together, the hammered out an impressive set, covering an assortment of the Dead’s hits, but I have to say that the Dead already were a little jazzy to begin with, so their renditions weren’t that divergent from what most Deadheads were used to, though I think everyone could agree that Jazz Is Dead played their instruments more skillfully. OK, maybe Phil Lesh and Jerry get a pass, Jerry on a good night anyway. Pete was at the helm that evening, but Jazz Is Dead actually would return the following year and Pete let me record that one. By then, Pete was getting tired of Boots’ crap and letting me do most everything and lucky me, the recording from the show in 1999 would later be used for their live album, “Laughing Water”. Billy Cobham would not be in that line up, however, being replaced by drummers Jeff Sipe, also from Aquarium Rescue Unit, and Rod Morgenstein, who played with T. Lavitz in the Dixie Dregs as well as the hair metal band Winger.

Keiko Matsui, Daniel Kane, War., SF, Thur., April 23, 1998

I didn’t know fact one about Ms. Matsui before this show, but I had seen Daniel Kane once and recently too. The solo Chapman stick player, known for busking at Fisherman’s Wharf, had just opened for Steve Winwood the previous November at the very same venue. I’m glad to say that the crowd was just as polite and attentive to his set and that I got all of it in its entirety. The crowd was a smooth jazz/new age crowd, the kind of people that listen to KBLX, “The Quiet Storm”. Whenever I hear music like this, particularly instrumental music, my thoughts turn to my high school friend Damon who listened to only stuff like that. Damon was the kind of guy, well, just imagine the character Finch from the “American Pie” movies, only perpetually drunk and chain smoking. That’ll get you in the ballpark.

Keiko is Japanese, as her name is dead giveaway, and quite a brilliant piano player. As you might recall from my introduction to this blog, my mother plays and taught piano and learning such an instrument to that level of perfection is no easy feat, especially at her relatively young age at the time. She had just released her “Full Moon & Shine” album that year and would also have a live special broadcast on PBS called, “Keiko Matsui : Light Above The Trees”. Furthermore, she had recently been doing charity work, raising money and awareness for breast cancer research, releasing “A Gift Of Hope” album for the Y-ME National Breast Cancer Organization. Like I said, this was the first time I’d see her. She had been touring with a very competent and talented band, including her husband, Kazu, who joined her on stage playing a traditional Japanese flute called a shakuhachi.

Kazu had been by her side since the beginning of her career, playing his flute and producing her albums. They even used the money for their honeymoon to record her first album, “A Drop Of Water” in 1987. It was well worth it, since Keiko would soon become one of the most successful artists in the genre, probably the most successful woman as well. I liked her stuff and appreciated that the crowd shut the fuck up and listened, making my recording loud and clear. Their soprano sax player, Greg Riley, was particularly talented, real smooth stuff. For some unknown reason, I didn’t have Keiko’s entire set, in fact only getting her first four songs. Maybe the rest of it will turn up some day. There was no poster and I didn’t even have an set list or a flyer to further document the show. Sometimes a show gets away from me a little and I’ve got to take what I can get.

The Wailers, Michael Rose & The Fully Fullwood Band, Maritime Hall, SF, Mon., April 24, 1998

SETLISTS :

(MICHAEL ROSE & THE FULLY FULLWOOD BAND) : Short Temper, Sensemilla, Guess Who’s Coming To Dinner, How You Fi Do That, Shine Eye Gal, Cookie Jar, General Penitentiary, Black Maria, Abortion, Sponji Reggae, Mondays, Solidarity, Dance Wicked

(THE WAILERS) : Guiltiness, Keep On Moving, War, Heathen, Want More, Jah Live, Easy Skankin’, Rat Race, No Woman No Cry, Exodus, Get Up Stand Up

This would be an extra special show and has the unique distinction of being the only show where not one, but two live Maritime albums were recorded. Pete was at the helm as well he should have been for it, considering the reggae royalty that was gracing the stage that night. First off was ex-Black Uhuru singer, Michael Rose. Though I’d seen his old band just play the Hall the previous August, this would be the first time I’d be seeing Michael. Still, I knew his stuff, especially the “Anthem” album, which would be the first reggae album to win a Grammy. Michael had taken a few years off from show biz before touring again, retreating to his place in Blue Mountains of Jamaica to grow coffee, but he and his golden voice were in fine form that night.

Pete took to the show like a fish to water, even having a few friends in the house playing that night, like bassist Fully Fullwood, who was leading Michael’s band. Pete knew a lot of these guys from his days working on Reggae On The River. Fully had played and recorded with practically everybody before that, like Bob Marley, Mikey Dread, the previously mentioned Black Uhuru, Gregory Isaacs, U-Roy, but most notably leading Peter Tosh’s “Word, Sound, & Power” band and the Soul Syndicate band, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg with him. He even runs a charity in Long Beach called “Reggae For A Reason” that raises money to help homeless youth. Pete also was friends with Fully’s guitarist, Tony Chin, and brought him down to the recording room to shoot the breeze before the show. I’m glad that Michael used this show for an album and even more grateful that Pete mixed it himself instead of Boots, making it one of the best albums the Maritime ever put out. Why Pete did that one, yet Boots got to mix The Wailers album, I don’t know. I’m just glad Pete got to do at least one of them. I hung out for a bit of the mix-down he did months later, but as usual, I didn’t stick around long. I’ve never had the patience to endure studio work. 

Likewise, Pete knew a lot of the older members of The Wailers. Though bassist Ashton “Familyman” Barrett was the only original member of the band, he brought along a couple members of Marley’s touring band like Earl “Wire” Lindo, who had been his keyboardist on the road between 1973 and 1974. There also was Al Anderson on guitar who had played on the “Natty Dread” album and toured with Bob until taking a break in 1976. He rejoined the band two years later, played on the “Survival” and “Uprising” albums, and continued to tour with him until Bob’s death in 1980. He would go on to record and collaborate with a long list of stars, including producing and playing on Lauryn Hill’s blockbuster hit album, “The Miseducation Of Lauryn Hill”. Strangely enough, he even produced and performed on an album done by action movie star Steven Seagal called “Songs From The Crystal Cave” in 2005. Weird, eh?

Familyman himself had a long and varied career up until then as well, being Bob’s bassist, song arranger, and bandleader, mixing his albums, “Catch A Fire” and “Exodus”, and being a mentor to reggae bass great Robbie Shakespeare of Sly & Robbie. He actually got the nickname Familyman before he had children, but he well earned that moniker, having sired a mind boggling 41 of them! It’s a good thing he’s done so much work. That’s a lot diapers to pay for. Both sets that show were stellar, especially Michael’s. I have always loved his songs and his voice. He’s the kind of guy who can scat out lines like “Nah-Nah-Nichy-Woy!” and it makes sense somehow. He wore a bid black turban and was dressed head to toe in black leather, which must have been sweltering playing his set under all those stage lights. I guess Jamaica is a pretty hot country, so he probably didn’t mind. Michael would release his own live album, “Party In Session : Live” later that October, which was a little bizarre, considering both live albums had mostly the same songs. No complaints from me anyway.

The Wailers were using a diminutive, dreadlocked kid, known as the “Young Lion” on vocals that night. Though having no previous formal training, Al Anderson discovered him one day singing in the back of a car, and was instantly smitten by his voice. He was good, really good. I mean, he wasn’t Bob, everybody knew that, but he definitely had Bob’s cadence and vocal style down. Those are tough shoes to fill to say the least. Their set had the usual assortment of Bob’s greatest hits, though they did include one or two lesser known numbers like “Guiltiness” which they opened with and “Jah Live”. Both our live albums recorded from that fateful evening wouldn’t be released for another year, but thanks to that show, the stack of CDs at home with my name on them would soon grow a little taller.

The Mother Hips, Liar, 4 Fathom Bank Robbers, Maritime Hall, SF, Tues., April 25, 1998

SETLIST : Two River Blues, Stunt Double, Mona Lisa & The Last Supper, Whiskey On A Southbound, The Cosmonaut, Stoned Up The Road, Such A Thing, Mother Hips, Gold Plated, Old Man From The Mountain, Been Lost Once, Spotless As You, Whiskey River, Esmerelda, Transit Wind, October Teen, Rich Little Girl, Later Days, Do It On The Strings, Hey Emilie, Two Young Queens, Can’t Sleep At All, Mr. Soul, (encore), Motorhome, Hot Lunch, Sing Me Back Home

This was an important show for me, not because of the bands who were there, although I appreciated them, but for who was in attendance for the show. Yes, this would be the one show where my parents came to the Maritime and most importantly the one time they met my partner Pete. I had a feeling that the show wouldn’t be well sold and it wasn’t, so I knew they would have an easier time getting around upstairs and wouldn’t have any trouble getting a seat in the balcony or have to wait for the bathrooms long. The Mother Hips weren’t a very offensive band, well, at least not compared to Rammstein who would play the Hall the following night. I could only grimace and imagine what my folks would have made of those freaks. Still, I was a little surprised it didn’t sell too well. The Hips and Liar were great bands and the tickets were only $12.

I wanted my folks there to meet Pete for a number of reasons. One, that he was my mentor and had been telling them about him ever since I became his right hand man. Secondly, I wanted to show them exactly what I did there which I knew they would find impressive. One always seeks approval in what they do professionally, especially from one’s parents. Lastly, I thought they would bond with Pete for no better reason than they were close in age, Pete being only a few years younger than they were. I think in meeting Pete, my folks could appreciate their shared generational experience and vicariously embrace Pete’s lifestyle and his stories as I had. My folks weren’t exactly “squares”, but they weren’t bone fide hippies either. Still, both my dad and Pete had served in the armed forces around the same time during the tense Cold War days of the late 50’s-early 60’s, my dad in the Air Force, Pete in the Navy.

I’m happy to say that they all hit it off. Pete took them aside and hung out in Grant’s office next door to the recording room and they chatted while I recorded the opening acts. Pete graciously praised me and my talent repeatedly to my folks and I like to think he wasn’t exaggerating just for my behalf. I was proud to be Pete’s partner and his approval to me was just as important professionally as my folks’ was, if not more. I can’t remember if my folks met Boots that night or if he was even in the house. I was understandably preoccupied. Part of me actually hoped that my folks would smoke a joint with Pete, probably the best chance they would ever have in their lifetime’s to be amenable to it, but it didn’t happen. Just as well, dad had to drive home that night anyway. 

I don’t recall 4 Fathom Bank Robbers, but I did enjoy Liar’s set at that show. Liar was fronted my local singer/songwriter Eric McFadden who I had just seen only nine days before this show opening for the Steve Miller Band at The Fillmore. This was Eric’s country rock band and he was wearing his straw, white cowboy hat instead of his black top hat, looking the part. He also was sporting a T-Shirt with a sort of Betty Page like cartoon girl on it from the rockabilly band, The Frantic Flattops, from Rochester, New York. The folks he was playing with were talented musicians, especially their beautiful, blond violin player, Sheila Schat. I’ve said it before, but I always appreciate when a band has a violin player, a rare occurrence. They actually had just played a bar called The Blue Lamp the night before that was on Geary, just a few blocks from my studio apartment of the time, but I was working The Wailers show that night anyway.

Eric joked at the beginning of their set how he likes “to boast we’re Madonna’s favorite band”. After a few songs, he mentioned the next song was “from our new CD that’s supposed to be in stores” and that he’ll give everybody the “number to complain to” for their record company, Toadaphile Records, later and then went into the song, “Blood Thirsty Morning”. Eric played remarkably, picking his electric guitar and he even busting out his mandolin for one of the tunes. He mentioned to folks that they should vote no on Proposition E between songs, which would have repealed rent control in the city, and thankfully it was shot down, as such attempts always have been before and since. Eric was a little miffed that his set got cut short a couple songs, but laughed it off saying, “Let’s have a hootenanny! Stomp your hands! Clap your feet!”, before finishing the set with “One Crazy Day”.

Pete took over to record The Mother Hips and I joined my folks for a while upstairs to watch the show with them and have a beer. I thought it was ironic that the one show I would take my mother to the Maritime to would be The Mother Hips. I think they liked them and I know they were impressed by my buddies’ work with the light show in the balcony, particularly the oil plates. I had seen the Hips a couple times already at The Fillmore, once headlining their own show in 1995 and again in 1996 opening for Johnny Cash. They even played Cash’s “Whiskey River”. That, and playing “Mr. Soul” by Buffalo Springfield as well as a couple Merle Haggard songs, “Old Man From The Mountain” and finishing their encore with “Sing Me Back Home”, at least gave my folks a couple tunes that would sound familiar. The Hips were just about to release their new album, “Later Days”, the next month and they played five new songs from it that night, “Gold Plated”, “Later Days”, “Esmerelda”, “Do It On The Strings”, and “The Cosmonaut”.

Rammstein, Hansel & Gretyl, Maritime Hall, SF, Sun., April 26

SETLIST : Rammstein, Tier, Bestrafe Mich, Weisses Fleisch, Sehnsucht, Asche Ze Asche, Seemann, Heirate Mich, Du Riechst So Gut, Du Hast, Buck Dich, Engel (encore), Spiel Mit Mir, Laichzeit, Wollt Ihr Das Bett In Flammen Sehen?

Oh boy, Gott Im Himmel, these guys. The Maritime had already gotten it’s share of pyrotechnics a few weeks before with Crash Worship, but Rammstein brought more. Indeed, for those folks who witnessed the spectacle of one of their shows back then, one can never forget the image of singer Till Lindemann slowly walking on stage for their first self titled song, wearing a thick, (presumably) fire resistant, silver jacket with his arms stretched out on fire. Unlike Crash Worship, at least Rammstein had genuine songs to play that night. This would actually be the first show that they would headline in the United States. Rammstein did a brief tour starting the previous December as an opening act for fellow German band, KMFDM. I don’t envy any band that has to follow these boys. Like Crash Worship, I wasn’t sure if the fire marshall was in the house, but if he was, he was either asleep or extremely nervous. Seriously, every time these guys set something off, you could feel the heat on your face.

Rammstein founded the “Neue Deutshe Harte”, or “New German Hardness”, musical movement and though they had only released their first album in 1995 to disappointing sales and reviews, their second album, “Sehnsucht”, released just the previous August was a big hit. It would become the only album sung entirely in German to be certified platinum by the RIAA. I actually knew a couple of their songs from the soundtrack of the David Lynch film, “Lost Highway” which had also come out the year before. Trent Reznor from Nine Inch Nails was clearly a fan, putting two of their songs, the aforementioned “Rammstein” and “Heirate Mich”, on it. It would be the first time Trent would assemble a movie soundtrack, but I’d have never guessed that he’d get not just one, but two Oscars in the future for his work with Atticus Ross on “The Social Network” and “Soul”.

Like I said, the band was pretty new back then, having formed from various acts shortly after the fall of the Berlin Wall. These guys were East Germans, though their name originally came from Ramstein, the US Air base in the west. They first called themselves, “Rammstein Flugschau”, a reference to the 1988 disaster at an air show there that killed 67 spectators, 3 pilots, and injured hundreds more. They claim the extra “M” in their name was initially a mistake, but later said their name came from a door stop device used for old gates, literally translating to “Ramming Stone”. Suffice to say, the band is both heavy and involves a great deal of fire, so either explanation would be appropriate. Despite their obvious weirdness and dangerous theatricality, one has to give them credit for maintaining their original line up for over 25 years, even to this day.

Til was impressive as a frontman, not only for his striking baritone voice, but for his muscular physique. Apparently, he was a professional swimmer for a time, even almost taking part in the 1980 Moscow Olympics at the young age of 17, but he eventually gave up competing after being injured somehow. He’d have to be in good shape to wear that flaming silver jacket in the beginning of the set anyway, since it weighs about 100 pounds. It comes to no surprise that Til has sustain several burns on his ears, head, and arms over the years and eventually became a licensed pyro technician himself. The amount of ordinance this band spins in a single tour could probably destroy the Maritime or any other venue for that matter. Before joining the band, Til had a number of odd jobs including being a basket weaver for a time. Who’d of guessed it? At least if he was the proverbial underwater basket weaver, he’d be safe from fire.

Rammstein had brought their own monitor board, so the Hall couldn’t record them, but just as well for me. This was my fifth show in a row, eight in nine days! It was quite a busy April to say the least and I was exhausted. So, I had a couple beers, hung out in the balcony with my tape deck and got the show myself. It certainly was loud enough. I found a half decent bootleg on You Tube from that night and heard somebody cheering between songs that sounded suspiciously like yours truly. Maybe the other bootlegger was sitting close by. Opening that night was industrial metal duo Hansel Und Gretyl, dressed in custom made lederhosen, though they weren’t actually Germans. They had met Rammstein at a CMJ Music Marathon show earlier that year in their native New York City and joined them for the tour afterwards. 

Considering the dangerous amounts of flame being used, the show went relatively smoothly. Any crash they can walk away from, eh? Their drum machine sampler did however take a dive at the beginning of “Du Hast”, so the opening for that song was a little shaky for the guitarists to join in, but they got the hang of it eventually. Richard Kruspe was breaking in his new keyboard for this tour that night and it was the first time the band played the song, “Buck Dich” live. I’d see Rammstein only six months later at the Cow Palace for the Family Values Tour with Korn and Ice Cube and they would return to play the Hall the following year as well. Sadly, I they would bring their monitor board with them again then, so I wasn’t able to record them at that show either, but again I at least got to go upstairs and enjoy the fireworks.

Los Fabulosos Cadillacs, Cherry Poppin’ Daddies, Yeska, Fill., SF, Mon., April 27, 1998

SETLIST (CHERRY POPPIN’ DADDIES) : We’ll Always Have Paris, Dr. Bones, No Mercy For Swine, Night, Teenage Brainsurgeon, Hit Lo, Cosa Nostra, Mona Lisa, Zoot Suit Riot, The Ding Dong Daddy Of The D-Car Line, Shake Your Lovemaker

It is a rare occasion that I get to see a band from South America at all, but I believe this might have been the first and perhaps only time I’d seen one from Argentina. I suppose it’s fitting that it would be a ska band, or played ska amongst their various styles, considering my past experiences with bands like the Dance Hall Crashers or Skankin’ Pickle. Los Fabulosos Cadillacs at least started as a ska band way back in the early 80’s, being fans of Britain’s Two-Tone ska scene. They picked a strange time to emulate the Brits, since Argentina had just finished that unpleasant business with them over the Falkland Islands. Nevertheless, not only did the Cadillacs do well, they became one of the country’s most beloved acts. Before they came to the States for this tour, they had just finished playing to a crowd of 120,000 in their home town of Buenos Aires. So, seeing them in a venue that holds around a thousand was a privilege, even if I was totally unaware of who they were, which I was.

I didn’t know the opening act Yeska either, though I liked them a lot. They were a Latino instrumental band from L.A., their name a Chicano slang word for marijuana. I thought I knew most of the slang for herb, but that was a new one for me. Yeska definitely took a page from both Tito Puente and Santana, but did their thing well. The percussion guy got the crowd warmed up doing a solo and getting everybody to clap along. I can’t rightly say if I’d seen the Cherry Poppin’ Daddies from Eugene, Oregon before, but I can say they felt familiar. There were a lot of ska and swing shows back then, some I didn’t record. But even if I hadn’t seen them, I knew the genre pretty well by then. Like the Cadillacs, the Daddies started primarily as a ska band, but then they got roped, for better or worse, into the whole swing scene that erupted just a couple years before this, punctuated by the hit indy comedy, “Swingers”. They had a big hit with their album, “Zoot Suit Riot”, particularly with the title song from it. The Daddies were nominated that year for Best New Artist In A Video at the MTV Video Music Awards and they clocked in almost 300 shows in 1998 as well. It was a good year for them. And they were hot, too. I enjoyed the singer, Steve Perry (not the one from Journey obviously), as well as their razor sharp horn section.

In fact, all three bands had a lot of members, which made this show rather affordable at $15 considering all the talent that was in the house. The Daddies had actually just won the very first Grammy given out for Best Latin Rock/Alternative Album the year before with their new one, “Fabulosos Calavera”. The crowd was dancing, drunk, and boisterous for sure. I think I even heard a soccer chant during the encore break. Pity there wasn’t a poster for this one. Now at least if I ever meet somebody from Argentina, I could look them in the eye and truthfully say that I saw one of their musical ambassadors.

Coal Chamber, Sevendust, Human Waste Project, Day In The Life, Maritime Hall, SF, Thurs., April 30, 1998

SETLISTS :

(COAL CHAMBER) : Sway, Big Truck, Bradley, First, Anxiety, Clock, I, Unspoiled, Not Living, Oddity, Loco

(SEVENDUST) : Black, Speak, Born To Die, Terminator, Will It Bleed, Face, Too Close To Hate, Bitch

I’d already seen Sevendust a few times by then, having just recorded them at their own headlining show at the Maritime just four months before this show. So, those no need to rehash old stuff I’ve written, just to say that they were good as usual, even if they were just an opening act for this one. I don’t remember much about Day In The Life, but I liked Human Waste Project. It’s rare that you get a heavy act like this with a female singer, especially one with a voice as good, strong, and controlled as Aimee Echo’s. Aimee sounded a little like Gwen Stefani, but a little raspier. She and her band only made one album, “E-lux”, released a year before this show, and it was a good thing that I caught them when I did. They played their last show together only two months later at the House Of Blues in L.A., which made this naturally their last show in San Francisco. It’s a pity that the stuff I recorded of them hasn’t been released. That band’s a rare bird now.

This would be the first time I’d see Coal Chamber, but not the last. They were still fairly new then, having just put out their debut and anonymous album a year before this, but they were already headlining act. To this day, I still never saw why they got as big as they did, especially as fast as they did. Good luck, I guess, show biz, you know. Still, it’s not that I hated them or that they didn’t have talent, it’s just that they always felt like an opening act to me. Human Waste Project and Sevendust were easily as good as they were, if not better. I felt that doubly so the next year when Coal Chamber came back and none other than Slipknot were opening for them. It’s not too often that I see a show where the opener was better than the headliner. Usually, when that happens, the headliner gets jealous and kicks the better opening act off the tour eventually.

Lee “Scratch” Perry & The Robotiks Band, Mad Professor, Maritime Hall, SF, Fri., May 1, 1998

I kicked off the month of May with the triumphant return of Mr. Perry. April had been a busy one, doing 17 shows in only 30 days, but May was close behind with 16 shows in 31. Lee had famously visited the Hall the previous year, performing for the first time in America in over 17 years, selling out two shows there. As I written before, those shows were used to make the Maritime’s first live album and DVD, so the notion of recording him again seemed a little redundant, though we did it anyway. He brought the Mad Professor and the Robotiks Band with him again and the setlist was practically the same if not identical. I can’t say for sure, but I can say with confidence that he at least played “Secret Laboratory” and “Roast Fish & Cornbread”.

Lee’s reacquainting himself with the Yanks again was a good career move, helping him land a spot toasting on a song on the Beastie Boys’ new album, “Hello Nasty”, which would be released a couple months after this show on July 14th, the day before my birthday incidentally. The song, appropriately titled, “Dr. Lee, PhD”, had him doing his usual insane, though entertaining ramblings, going on about the “Beastie Boys… and their Beastie toys…” He not only helped drop that tune that year, but also released two more albums, adding to his already ridiculously long list of album credits. They were dub reggae albums, similarly titled “Dub Fire” and “Fire In Dub”, but I can’t say if he played any tracks from them in his set that night either. It was good to see Lee again and I shook his his hand. He was grateful to Pete and I for the album we made with him and said so. That meant a lot to me.

Tribestan Pro Invitational Bodybuilding Championship, Maritime Hall, SF, Sat., May 2, 1998

I’ve done a wide variety of events in my humble career in show biz, but this was definitely a first, and to this day the only one of its kind. Why oh why the Maritime was chosen to host this parade of beefcake will always remain a mystery to me. In reality, I didn’t really need to be there, since Pete was there and there were only a couple mics used, primarily for the competition’s emcee and the ever present audience mics. To even record them multi-track on ADATs seemed excessive, but these guys were the boss and when one saw the size of the competitors, the thought of disagreeing with them in any way quickly passes. Incidentally, to have any show the day after having Lee “Scratch” Perry play would be a stylistic departure, but this was a sharp left turn to say the least. Yes, this was a body building competition. Prior to this night, my only knowledge of these things was what I knew from Arnold Schwarzenegger and his escapades in the 70’s, particularly with the seminal semi-documentary “Pumping Iron”. The event took all afternoon, having semi-final routines before the judges narrowed it down to the finals at the end.

Suffice to say, seeing these guys flex for hours on end made feel a little… shall we say, small. I’m not an overtly competitive man by nature, but in the presence of men whose very sport in founded on endless hours of torturous weigh lifting, one can’t help but admire their will, if not their biceps. I mean, these guys were huge, borderline freakish. Really, after hours of seeing them flex with those disturbing smiles on their faces, I was beginning to feel queazy. A little, not so secret about those smiles… when they’re flexing, doing their routines, those smiles are masking intense, agonizing pain. Indeed, I witnessed it myself the moments when these competitors strolled off stage, those smiles came off instantly and they would collapse onto the cold marble floors of the Maritime, gasping for air. It was quite a sight to say the least. Another little trick they do to make their muscles look more defined was to apply bronzer make up to themselves, accentuating the crevices between the muscle groups, especially their abs. Being good sports and comrades, they would help each other put it on. I’m sure the women in the audience would have been impressed at the sight backstage and seriously, I am confident in my heterosexuality, but the sight backstage would also probably have made most gay men swoon, at least I would image so. 

But I do appreciate the effort these hulks have put into their craft, as the evil Mr. Han in “Enter The Dragon” so eloquently phrased it, they “forge their bodies in the fire of their will”. Climbing the staircases of the Maritime for hours helped keep me in some modicum of shape, but this show reminded me that I had some work to do. Strangely enough, the one thing I remembered from this show the most was not who won, but of one competitor in particular. Competing that night was a fellow named Favio Bachianini and as his name suggests, he was Italian. Like all the other meatheads there, he was ripped head to toe in muscles, but unlike the others, he was only 4 foot 10, making him not only the shortest one there, but the shortest man to ever compete for the title of Mr. Olympia. Still, everybody loves an underdog and he had a winning smile and everybody seemed to like him. To see him along side all these behemoths, especially looking up pictures of him beside guys like Lou Ferrigno, who was 6’5”, made an impression. Personally, to knock points off him for height, I think would be blatantly unfair. After all, when it came to proportion and symmetry, he was practically the same as the others. Anyway, Flavio didn’t win, losing to some giant, bald, black fellow, but Flavio got lots of applause from the audience as well as my admiration, for what that’s worth.

One final footnote from this show was that at the end of the night, I gave the tapes to one of the organizers and included the ADAT tapes, as we all thought they would be used in the future for some broadcast, probably on one of ESPN’s channels. Well, the tapes got left behind accidentally and one of our stage guys, Bones, fessed up that the box that I had put them in was probably mistaken as garbage and thrown out at the end of the night. These things happen, I understand, but I can’t help but feel disappointed that footage from this spectacle of muscle will never be seen again. After all, it was the one body building competition, at least to this date, that I ever took part in… as a non-competitor. 

Soulfly, Snot, Hed (PE), Papa Roach, Maritime Hall, SF, Wed., May 6, 1998

SETLISTS : 

(HED P.E.) : P.O.S., Ground, Serpent Boy, Darky Circus, Ken 2012

(SNOT) : Snot, Joy Ride, I Jus’ Lie, Stoopid

(SOULFLY) : Eye For An Eye, No Hope = Fear, Spit, Bleed, Beneath The Remains/Dead Embryonic Cells, Wasting Away, Tribe, Bumbklaat, Refuse/Resist, Territory, Bumba, Prejudice, Fire, Roots Bloody Roots, Attitude, The Song Remains Insane, (encore), California Uber Alles (with Jello Biafra), Cockroaches, No

We weren’t even halfway through the year and already some of the same bands were starting to reappear at the Hall, though this would be this first time I’d see Soulfly. Papa Roach had just played in March with Salmon and both Snot and Hed (PE) had played with Sevendust in January, so I was already familiar with all of them. I’d actually see Snot three times that year at the Hall before the tragic death of their singer, Lynn Strait, that December in a car crash. Yes, I hadn’t seen Soulfly yet, but I had seen it’s frontman, Max Cavalera before in his old band, Sepultura, who opened for Ministry at the Civic in 1992. Go back and read about that one and you’ll understand, that show would be impossible to forget… for a number of reasons.

Soulfly was born out of tragedy. Max had been touring with Sepultura for years and had been employing his wife, Gloria, as their manager. Now, it’s always dangerous when a band mixes up spouses with their business, but things took a plunging turn for the worse when her son, Dana “D-Low” Wells, died suddenly in a car crash back in Gloria’s home town of Phoenix, Arizona. Apparently, Dana gotten into some dust up with members of a local gang called LCM, guns were pointed, and he tried to high tail it out of there, but ended up sliding over a curb, hitting a tree, and flipping the car. Distraught from the horrific news, Max left Sepultura to attend the funeral back home, making Sepultura’s show at London’s Brixton Academy in December of 1996 opening for Ozzy Osborne, his last one with them. Ozzy was even gracious enough to hire Max & Gloria a private plane to fly back home.

What happened next gets a little murky. Since things were already tense between Max and the rest of the band, they took it upon themselves to fire Gloria in their absence, siting conflicts in their scheduling over the funeral as one of the reasons. Well, this was the last straw for Max and he left Sepultura and quickly formed Soulfly in Los Angeles and started recording their debut, self-titled album which had just been released only two weeks before this show. Sadly, one of the more painful consequences of this break up was Max’s estrangement from his brother, Igor, who was Sepultura’s drummer. They weren’t on speaking terms for a decade after this, but the good news is that they ultimately reconciled in 2006 and have since began playing together, forming a new band together called the Cavalera Conspiracy.

This was obviously Soulfly’s first time in San Francisco, but they were among friends, a pretty well sold crowd, that was rowdy to say the very least. Maybe they were worked up after the Unibomber had just been sentenced to four life sentences only two days before this show. The afore mentioned openers got the audience all warmed up, especially Snot, though their set was pretty short. One of their guitarists that night wore a Jerry Rice 49er jersey despite the fact they were from L.A. Lynn got the heshers all riled by the second song, yelling, “Let’s break some shit!!!” There were no shortage of crowd floaters and stage divers that night, giving the stage security quite a handful. Lynn tried to mediate for a of them getting manhandled asking them to just drag the sleeveless mook out to stage right and not throw him out completely. He joked later that the song “Serpent Boy” was dedicated “to all your girlfriends”.

One thing I noticed re-watching the footage of the show was my friend Tom Murphy on stage taking care of business. Indeed, it has been so long that I forgot he worked at the Hall for a time. I’d first met Tom working with him at Tech Services at S.F. State, he being one of the managers and a cracker jack sound guy. He taught me a lot back then and I was glad to not only work with him also at the Hall, but on a few calls with the Union. I haven’t seen him in years, like I said, and he being at least twenty years older than me, a heavy smoker, and known to drink his share, I worry that he may not be amongst us anymore and I hope that is not the case. Perhaps any Maritime alumni reading this might know and hit me back. I miss Tom. He was a good friend and I can still close my eyes and see his smile and those big blue peepers of his.

Soulfly came on at last and wasted no time bringing the noise. Max, being Brazilian, thanked the crowd after the first song by saying, “obrigada”. By the third song, “Bleed”, they already had their first guest, Lynn from Snot, come out to help sing and if the mosh pit wasn’t hairy enough, somebody set off a Roman Candle in the middle of it. Since both Crash Worship and Rammstein had played the Hall recently, I guess people thought that this was the place to set off random pyro, but I assume nobody was hurt. Nobody I heard was hurt anyway. The second guest on stage that set was Jared Gomes, the singer from Hed (PE), who did the song “Prejudice”, even doing a verse from N.W.A.’s “Fuck The Police”. Clearly, this new musical project for Max was therapeutic and he was thankful to the crowd before getting them to chant along to “Bumba”. He dedicated the song “Attitude” to his deceased stepson and finished the set after with “The Song Remains Insane”. They got through a lot of their new material that night, but managed to play seven Sepultura songs as well as a cover of Nailbomb’s “Cockroaches”.

The third and final guest of the night was none other than Jello Biafra from the Dead Kennedys himself. Max introduced him at the beginning of the encore, graciously citing him as one of his biggest musical influences before they went into the punk classic, “California Uber Alles”. One of the things I love about that song is as the years go by, Jello amends the lyrics to have it sung about the most recent California tyrant in power and this time around, it was Pete Wilson. Being the Republican governor and proponent of the draconian Proposition 187, introduced a few years before, attempting to deny undocumented immigrants from receiving emergency medical care, public education, and other services. Thankfully, it was ruled unconstitutional a year after this show, but Jello revised his lyrics to, “I’m Governor Pete Wilson”, “Welcome to 2004” and “It’s the immigration police” accordingly. After the song ended, Jello took his turn to stage dive into the crowd himself. With all the stage divers and crowd floaters, it’s a miracle that my friend Dan manning one of the cameras up front escaped that night unharmed.

Finally, the one thing I never, ever forgot from this show was how Max introduced the final song of the night, “Soulfly”, of which they are named. He got the crowd to shout, “Fuck MTV!!! Fuck Hootie & The Blowfish!!!” Granted, I wasn’t a fan of the band or the network, (except for maybe “Beavis & Butthead”), but I didn’t see that one coming. I have since wondered if this ever got back to Darius Rucker or any other member of that band. They’d probably laugh about it, maybe even agree on some level. Either way, I thought it was hilarious. They ended the song gradually, one member at a time stepping away from their instruments. One of the guitarists jumped into the crowd, then the drummer. Max didn’t, but made sure to give everybody up front a high five before exiting the stage. It wouldn’t be long until I’d see Soulfly again at the Hall since they would return with Snot and Hed (PE) opening again only four months later. 

The Funky Meters, Will Bernard 4-Tet, Fill., SF, Sat., May 9, 1998

I had the pleasure of seeing The Funky Meters at The Fillmore two years before this show, but was still too young and dumb to appreciate the honor of what I was witnessing. I like to think the more shows I was seeing, the more sophisticated my taste was becoming and to list these guys in my concert exploits was helpful. One can’t deny the sheer talent of these musical geniuses from the Big Easy. Though I’d seen them once before, as well as the Neville Brothers a couple of times and knew a few of their songs by then, I didn’t know anything of their history. Still, like their contemporaries P-Funk and James Brown, one can easily pick out riffs from their songs that have ended up in famous hip hop tunes. They played some of the same stuff they did in 1995, again covering Stephen Stills’ “Love The One You’re With” and the Allman Brothers’ “Midnight Rider”.

Of the original Meters that had disbanded in 1980, only Art Neville on keys and George Porter, Jr. on bass remained in this iteration. Guitarist Leo Nocentelli had left in 1994, replaced by Brian Stoltz of the Neville Brothers. One name that would be familiar to me years later would be that of Mr. Batiste, David Russell Batiste, Jr. to be precise, who had replaced Zigaboo Modeliste on drums. His father David, Sr. actually played keys for The Meters for a few years between 1977 to 1980. If the name Batiste sound familiar, it is probably because of their cousin, Jon, who became Stephen Colbert’s bandleader on The Late Show on CBS. Moreover, scores of that family permeate the New Orleans music scene and are revered and respected to this day. Hearing this Batiste and the rest of the band made me feel very cool and honestly gave me hope that I actually did have a modicum of good taste in music. 

They chose a good local opening act that night, being funk guitarist Will Bernard and his instrumental band the “4-Tet”. I’d recorded Will with T.J. Kirk at the Maritime a year before and was impressed with him, even playing alongside such a guitar god as Charlie Hunter. Will has since been a fixture playing around town regularly, especially at the Boom Boom Room just across the street from The Fillmore. This was the second of a two night stint and I was relieved that they once again were giving out a poster at the end of the show. Not only was it a good one, but a rare horizontal poster as well. Still, to this day I feel that to rename The Meters, “The Funky Meters” is sort of redundant. If I come up with a better name, maybe I’ll let them know some day.

D.O.A., Zeke, Bimbo Toolshed, Dork, Maritime Hall, SF, Sun., May 10, 1998

It had been two years since I’d seen D.O.A. for the first time at the Hall and I was eager to see them again. I was just ushering back then, but I was impressed by their raw energy and even expressed my opinion to the Hall’s booking agent that this show would be big. Turned out that I was wrong and it really didn’t sell well at all, though I still thought it was a fun show and I was happy that Pete had given me this one to record on my own. D.O.A. had been going through numerous line up changes through the 90’s, leaving Joe “Shithead” Keithley on guitar and vocals as the only founding member. They were touring with a new bassist, Kuba Van Der Pol, who had just replaced Wimpy Roy. One shining memory of this show was the sight of the band playing a round of hockey in their roller blades on the Maritime’s expansive empty wooden dance floor before the doors opened. Joe was wearing a hockey jersey which I imagine was from one of a number of teams from British Columbia, Canada where he’s from, though I couldn’t tell you which. I imagine Boots would have put a stop to it if he saw them, fearing that they would have scuffed up the floor. Speaking of Canada, I knew that D.O.A. had left leaning politics, but I had just learned that Joe was also a member of the Green Party up there and ran in their provincial elections in 1996. He ran again in 2001 and though he didn’t win that round either, still managed to rack up the most votes a Green Party candidate even amassed in an election, second only to his party leader. He eventually became a City Councillor up in Burnaby, BC in 2018. But back to show now.

I don’t remember Dork, though I liked their name and was surprised that no other band had bagged it first. Bimbo Toolshed made an impression though and I was happy to see that they had taken their copy of the video from that night and posted it on YouTube, allowing me to relive the experience. Finding their stuff online or any information about them was downright slim pickins, making that video really one of the only things around that prove they ever existed in the first place. They had a long drum intro before the band came on stage, fronted by a rather slovenly looking young woman with blond natty braids and tattoos, smoking and drinking while she sang. They were an L.A. punk band and to their credit, the other members were actually pretty tight, but this singer wasn’t shall we say, classically trained. Granted, it was punk music and clearly they were going for the dirty garage sound, but her voice started getting on my nerves after a while.

The guitarist, a young lady less desheveled than the singer, made a funny joke after the first couple songs, making fun of the empty venue. She said that she had “just got word from the management” that the show was too crowded and asked that people “take two steps back”, that way “people won’t get crushed up front”. The singer later proclaimed between songs, “We’re Bimbo Toolshed and we’ll play anywhere for cigarettes and beer! We’ll puke in your car!” The guitarist even said near the end of their set that if anybody got on stage and danced that they’d give them a free T-shirt, but sadly no one took them up on their offer. Their set only lasted a little over a half an hour, but they managed to belt out 13 tunes. Very sunk indeed. They were followed by Zeke, who had just released “Kicked In The Teeth” on Epitaph records that year. D.O.A. had a new album out as well called “Festival Of Atheists”. Pity there wasn’t a larger crowd for them, but I was glad they were there all the same. Boots would eventually record a show they did in San Francisco later and release a DVD in 2007, but nothing I did was used from that night. Strangely enough, the show the following night was for another, albeit very different band with an abbreviated name, C.P.R., making it perhaps the only time that has ever happened. Perhaps one should perform C.P.R. after someone is D.O.A. (Ba-dum-boom!)

CPR, McKinley, Fill., SF, Wed., May 13, 1998

SETLIST : Morrison, Tracks In The Dirt, One For Every Moment, That House, Homeward Through The Haze, Little Blind Fish, Delta, At The Edge, Rusty & Blue, Somebody Else’s Town, It’s All Coming Back To Me Now, Yvette, In My Dreams, Thousand Roads, Deja Vu

It had been a year since Crosby played that six night run at the The Fillmore with his longtime chums, Stills & Nash, and two years since he gave me and Pete the stink eye at the Maritime. As I written before, he wouldn’t let us record on the latter and seemed rather suspicious of me and my partner, but figured he was just concerned about how well he’d play that night, considering his new musical enterprise, CPR, was brand new. This time, they had been on the road for a while and definitely had their act together, even releasing a live album a couple months before this show from that tour recorded at a Cuesta College, a community college in San Luis Obispo. Furthermore, they would release yet another live album from their show at the Wiltern in L.A. the following November. Finally, CPR would release their first studio album in just six weeks from this gig and I’m glad to say that they played a handful of songs at this show that didn’t get on either of the live albums.

Opening that night was a nice young woman with short blond hair calling herself McKinley, though I can’t say if that was a part of her name or a reference to the famous mountain near her home in Anchorage, Alaska. At one point she introduced one of her songs describing a night when he house nearly blew down in a wind storm when she was a little girl there. McKinley had a sweet, angelic voice, sort of like Patty Griffin’s. She actually spent some time living in San Francisco and joked about how before the show, her old friends took her to the strip club, The Lusty Lady. There, she put a bunch of quarters into one of the stripper booths and had a lovely conversation with one of the employees there. I, and I’m sure plenty of others in the house, were pleasantly surprised when she did a sweet, acoustic cover of Prince’s “When Doves Cry”.

CPR sounded great that night, but then again Crosby’s voice always sounds great. I don’t think he gets enough credit for it, truth be told. They opened their set with “Morrison”, the first song that he ever wrote for the new band. After they finished “Rusty & Blue”, Jeff Pevar shouted to the crowd, “David Crosby!” which received a round of applause. Crosby cracked us up when he shouted back “Rumplestiltskin!” Near the end, Crosby asked the crowd if they were having fun and if they liked the new songs and people cheered in the affirmative. But unlike Crosby’s last visit to The Fillmore, this show didn’t get a poster. As luck would have it, this show was preceded by a very different band with an abbreviated name, D.O.A., at the Maritime. Probably the only time that has ever happened. Like I said before, perhaps one should perform C.P.R. on someone who is D.O.A. (Ba-dum-boom!)

Keith Emerson, Rork, Maritime Hall, SF, Fri., May 15, 1998

Afterburner, Long Journey Home, Hoedown, Nutrocker, Close To Home, Honky Tonk Train Blues, Creole Dance, White Noise, A Whiter Shade Of Pale, Cover Me, Tarkus, Fanfare For The Common Man/Rondo, America, Blue Rondo A La Turk, Dreams

It would be a prog rock double bill at the Maritime that weekend starting with keyboard virtuoso Keith Emerson of Emerson, Lake, & Palmer fame followed by Dream Theater the next night. As luck would have it, Dream Theater would end up opening for Keith and ELP that August at the Warfield, but I couldn’t go since I had to work at the Maritime that night recording the Brian Jonestown Massacre, quite a different scene indeed. It had been an eventful week with shows, but also because Frank Sinatra died the night before this show. Also, that night, the last episode of “Seinfeld” was aired. 

What I did know about Keith and his old band was mostly hilarious derision from punks in the 70s. Back then, the punk movement, especially in the UK, was driven in part as a backlash to what they saw as prog and glam rock excesses. It would be ironic that years later, Keith would move down the street from none other than Johnny Rotten from the Sex Pistols in Santa Monica and they would become friends. After getting to know him, Johnny even once referred to him as a “great bloke”. One thing I did know about Keith and would soon confirm was his talent as a musician. Yes, any rock keyboardist would have him front and center as an influence and after this show I saw why. Joined on stage by Glenn Hughes on bass and Marc Bonilla on guitar, Keith hammered out some impressive tunes. I especially liked “Nutrocker”, a rock medley of songs from the “Nutcracker”. One could see how Mannheim Steamroller took a page from him. They also did respectful covers of Procal Harum’s “A Whiter Shade Of Pale” and “Fanfare For The Common Man” by Aaron Copeland.

Impressive as the show was, I hadn’t thought about it until recently when I started to research as I do for all shows I write about and made a pleasant discovery. Apparently, in 2007, Keith took some of the songs we recorded and released it on an album called, “Boys Club : Live From California”. Of course, nobody told me about it then or after, and the album didn’t give me or Pete and credits in the liner notes. You better be damn sure I didn’t see one thin dime from it either. That’s show biz. But at least I have this credit under my belt now. This isn’t the first time I’d discover some of my handiwork after the fact. I remember finding a song I recorded for Public Enemy of their “Revolverlution” while shopping for CDs at Amoeba. They used the song, “My Uzi Weighs A Ton” and I was about to buy it when I was scanning over the liner notes on the back, reading, “Recorded… October… 1999… San Francisco… Wait a minute!!!” Like KRS-One did before them, Public Enemy probably just used stuff from the DAT tape from my monitor mix, as all bands get one of their sets along with the VHS of the video at the end of their set. I told Boots about it, but likewise didn’t get any credit or money. As I said before, on some level, I’m honored that our stuff was good enough to steal. But then again, Boots might have given Keith the ADAT masters and just kept it quiet, so he would get all the money. Wouldn’t put it past him. This would be the only time I’d see Keith live. Sadly, he shot himself in 2016, depressed from dealing with heart disease and years of alcoholism.

Dream Theater, Maritime Hall, SF, Sat., May 16, 1998

A Clockwork Orange Intro, A Change Of Seasons : I The Crimson Sunrise, A Change Of Seasons : II Innocence, Just Let Me Breathe, Burning My Soul, Take The Time, Free Bird, Anna Lee, Speak To Me, Lines In The Sand, Caught In A Web, Lie, Peruvian Skies, Pull Me Under, Trail Of Tears, (encore) Metropolis Pt. 1 : The Miracle & The Sleeper/Learning To Live/A Change Of The Seasons VII : The Crimson Sunset, Under A Glass Moon

Like I said in the previous entry, it was a good week for prog rock at the Hall. Keyboard extraordinaire Keith Emerson had just played the night before and as luck would have it, Dream Theater would end up opening for Keith and his band Emerson, Lake, & Palmer at the Warfield three month later. I couldn’t attend that one, having to work at the Hall recording the Brian Jonestown Massacre, a very different musical experience altogether. Like Keith’s show, coming in, I hardly knew anything about the band, less even since they hadn’t been around as long. But likewise I would learn that this band is equally as musically trained and respected among their fans and piers. 

This is the kind of music that music students and their teachers are into, they and sound engineers, really. One need only look at the crowd and see that it is a total sausage party out there, with heads, (that still have hair), adorned with mullets. Ladies there that night would find their bathrooms weren’t that crowded. Prog rock has often been accused of being girl repellant, though my cousin Lynn refutes the idea that Rush is one of those bands that are. Speaking of which, the guys from Dream Theater first started as a band covering Rush tunes, as well as Iron Maiden. One can listen these boys and clearly hear their influences. Three of the four members of the band met, you guessed it, as music students at the Berklee School Of Music in Boston. By this gig, the only founding members still in the band were John Mo Myung on bass and John Petrucci on guitar, the two Johns as it were. They originally called their band Majesty, but changed their name learning predictably that somebody else already bagged that name.

It’s a pity none of the material we recorded was ever released, mainly due to the fact that they would release their own live album recorded in Paris the following month. They taped that one at Le Bataclan, which would become infamous years later when terrorists massacred 90 people there in 2015, wounding over 200, at an Eagles Of Death Metal show. Even thinking about it to this day still gives me sickening chills. But I digress. Like I said sound people are really into Dream Theater and their ilk, so you can imaging there is no shortage of bootlegs of their shows throughout the ages, though I couldn’t find one for this particular show. They did come back to play the Hall in 2000 and there’s footage on YouTube for that one, but I didn’t tape that show.

The guys in Dream Theater are good… too good. Their chops are on such a proficient level, that really it would take a music student to even understand what their doing, especially their guitarist, John Petrucci. There were times during the show when he would be playing notes so fast, I couldn’t help of thinking of when Weird Al Yankovic did “Eat It” and his guitarist, parodying Eddie Van Halen’s guitar solo, exploded at the end of it. Yes, after an hour or so of their stuff, part of me just wants to go on stage, put my hands up, and say, “OK, OK, OK. I get it. You guys went to music school”. They will always have their die hard fans, but guys like Dream Theater will never make it stadium big, until they can make prog metal like Rush and Tool more accessible. Still, I liked their cover of “Free Bird” and they did do a rare B-Side from their last album, “Falling Into Infinity” called “Speak To Me” that was only a Japanese 3” bonus disc and on an exclusive fan club CD in 1999. Despite my nit picking, I have to admit that I liked them and went on to see them a couple more times in the future at the Warfield, once in 2004 and again in 2006. Their fans adore them, many coming from miles away or even out of state to see them play. After their set that night, even the drummer Mike Portnoy came out and took pictures with some of their fans. 

The Roots, Goodie Mob, Witchdoctor, Ambush, Parental Advisory, Take One, Baku, Maritime Hall, SF, Sun., May 17, 1998

By the time this show had come around, I’d already seen The Roots five times, twice opening an early and a late show with the Fugees at The Fillmore, once on the side stage at Lollapalooza, and recording them twice at the Maritime, but they were just on the cusp to a whole other level of stardom. Questlove and the gang were still a year out from releasing their seminal album, “Things Fall Apart”, but they showcased some of the new material that night, though I can’t say which songs. Lord knows, they had plenty to choose from. While recording the album, they had amassed 145 songs, whittling it down to only 14. The Roots were also touring now with an expanded band, now having a keyboard player as well as a couple human beatbox experts, Scratch, who had just joined that year, and Rahzel. It’s a pity none of my recordings from the Hall were ever used by the band, though they eventually did release a live album called “The Roots Come Alive”in 1999, a reference to Peter Frampton’s historic live album, “Frampton Comes Alive”, recorded from shows The Roots did in Zurich, Switzerland and New York City. I, of course, can’t help but be jealous, but it was a good live album and for that I can be happy for them.

It was nice to get a break from all the lily white prog rock noodling I’d been exposed to the past couple nights at the Hall with Keith Emerson and Dream Theater. There was a cavalcade of hip hop talent opening that show including the Goodie Mob from Atlanta, who we had already recorded at the Maritime once before . They had just released their album “Still Standing” and they too were playing new material that night. I do know that they opened their set with “Free” from their first album, “Soul Food”. The Goodie Mob had brought along their buddy Witchdoctor, a fellow member of the Atlanta musical collective, the “Dungeon Family”. As for the others, they all went by in a bit of a blur, handing off the mics to each other left and right. It was a long list of folks, so I’m glad they started the show a little early. One of the highlights of The Roots’ set was when Scratch and Rahzel took a moment to do a human beat box duet, Scratch doing the the treble, Rahzel doing the bass and beats. Having these guys around certainly saved The Roots and sound men the headache of setting up and mixing turntables. It wouldn’t be long until the Goodie Mob would return to the Hall in September and I would have the honor of mixing The Roots two more times there in 1999, once in August and again only three months later. That last Roots show would be the final one I’d record before Boots fired Pete, but it was a hell of a one to end our partnership there.

Bjork, U-Ziq, War., SF, Thur., May 21, 1998

SETLIST : Headphones, Hunter, You’ve Been Flirting Again, Isobel, All Neon Like, Possibly Maybe, Immature, Come To Me, 5 Years, Venus As A Boy, Bachelorette, Hyperballad, Violently Happy, Pluto, (encore), Joga, Play Dead

It had been nearly two years since I’d seen Ms. Gudmundsdottir at the Tibet Freedom Concert in Golden Gate Park. On this day incidentally, Indo Suharto resigned after 31 years in power in Indonesia, speaking of things that were a long time coming. At that Tibet show, you might have read before, I had to cut recording her set short, having to flee from a Security Guard who spotted me taping, so this show was important, having to redeem that loss. It still haunts me to this day, since I had to ditch my friend Tory at the end of that show out of fear that the guard would spot me up near the stage where we agreed to meet at the end of gig. Thankfully, Tory found me at my car where we parked later and accepted my profuse apologies, But back to Bjork. She had released her latest album, “Homogenic” the previous September, a deliberate departure from her more danceable material, and a lot had happened to her in the intervening years, most of which was unfortunate and one particular incident, downright tragic and horrifying. First, the unfortunate. Bjork had a whole tour with the new material lined up the year before when she was stricken with a kidney infection and had to cancel it while she recovered. To make matters worse, she was supposed to go on the road opening for Radiohead, when they pulled the rug out from underneath her, saying that it would be too hard to change the bands equipment between sets. Bjork was touring with an 8-piece Icelandic string section and a drum and bass guy for this one. So, that was strike two. The final piece of bad news took a really, really, REALLY dark turn. Like most beautiful female rock stars, Bjork had her share of admirers, but one fellow named Ricardo Lopez from Hollywood, Florida clearly took it too far.

Lopez was so distraught that Bjork was having a romantic relationship with trip hop star Goldie that he plotted a murder suicide scenario with her. He had sent her a bomb in the mail filled with sulfuric acid, which thankfully was intercepted safely by the Metropolitan Police in London and safely detonated. Originally, he had dreamt up a scheme to put together a bomb that would spring out dozens of hyper dermic needle filled with HIV infected blood, but abandoned that idea when he realized it was logistically impossible. His idea was that in killing her, they would somehow be reunited in heaven. Lopez sat in front of video camera, shaved his head, painted his face red and green, put on Bjork’s song, “I Remember You”, looked into its dark lens, said, “This is for you”, put the business end of a revolver in his mouth, and pulled the trigger. To make this tragedy even worse, Bjork had just ended her relationship with Goldie just a few days before Lopez did the deed. As one might imagine, she was distraught hearing the news about all this and couldn’t sleep for a week. She sent a condolence card and flowers to Lopez’s family and got out of town. Bjork had already had a contentious relationship with the paparazzi, famously beating the shit out of one at the airport in Bangkok in 1996, so it was high time for her to skip out of town and lay low in Spain. There, she wrote and recorded the new album in peace as well as put together a short lived record label called Ear Records, a subsidiary of One Little Indian Records. Once all this unpleasantness was behind her, she was able to hit the road in earnest. There was nowhere for Bjork to go from there but up.

At the Warfield, she brought along a drum and bass artist named Mike Madadinas who called himself U-Ziq, pronounced “music”. He had plenty of other nom de plumes including Jake Slazenger, Kid Spatula, Gary Moscheles, Tusken Raiders, and Rude Ass Tinker. He had released an album called “Lunatic Harness” the previous June and like most DJs, was there up on stage all by his lonesome, leaving the crowd to meander about to his music and was consequently easy to usher. Bjork came on soon enough, dressed in a pretty white dress with angel-like wings under her arms and adorning white make up covering her forehead and extending down the bridge of her nose making her look a little like a fox. I enjoyed the new material and particularly her string players. I’ve said often that to have a single violinist in a band is rare, but to have a string section is a rare bird indeed. She still dusted off a few previous hits, though newly arranged for strings, but conspicuously left out her big hits, “Army Of Me” and “Big Time Sensuality”, from last time around. There has been a bootleg CD of this show circulating around and I might pick it up some day since it is a safe bet it is a better recording. Furthermore, during my recording, the batteries started running out, speeding up the songs in the second half of the show. Thankfully, there is a video on YouTube of her show at the Hammersmith Ballroom in New York City from that tour that took place nine days before the Warfield show and has the same set list.

The new material was still a hit, garnering her gold records, a Grammy nomination for Best Alternative Music Performance, and a Grammy win for Best Short Form Music Video for “Bachelorette”. She got “Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind” director Michael Gondry to do that one. She would go on herself to act in the disturbing Lars Von Trier film, “Dancer In The Dark”, which would get her an Oscar nomination for her song, “I’ve Seen It All”, as well as a Best Actress win at the Cannes Film Festival. At the Oscars, she famously raised eyebrows with her “swan dress”. The experience filming was so emotionally draining for her though, that she vowed never to act again. Sadly, this would be the last time I’d see Bjork live. I was happy to see later that year that Alex Borstein did a hilarious impression of her on “MadTV”, playing in a video dating parody called “Lowered Expectations”. As for her returning to play again live in the bay area, I know she did a show at the obscure Craneway Pavilion in Richmond in 2013, but I didn’t go to that one. Apart from that, I couldn’t really remember any other time she came to perform in the bay area. I was and remain a big fan of her work and usually I’m on the ball hearing about musical acts of note coming to town. I hope and pray that she comes to town again some day soon, especially since I’ve never had poster from any of her shows including this one. After 23 years, it’s been a long, long, loooong time coming.

Mountain Aire ’98: Ben Harper & The Innocent Criminals, Leftover Salmon, Spearhead, Charlie Hunter & Pound 4 Pound, Calaveras County Fairgrounds, Angel Camp, Sat., May 23, 1998

SETLISTS :

(WILCO) : James Alley Blues, She’s A Jar, California Stars, Hesitating Beauty, Christ For President, New Madrid, Forget The Flowers, (Was I) In Your Dreams, I Got You (At The End Of The Century), Casino Queen, Passenger Side, I Must Be High, A Shot In The Arm, Via Chicago, True Love Will Find You In The End

(SPEARHEAD) : Chocolate Supa Highway, Runfayalife, Of Course Ya Can, Food For The Masses, Love IS Da Shit, No No No, Hole In The Bucket, Piece O’ Peace, I Feel Good, No Diggity, Simply Beautiful, Da Payroll (Stay Strong), Language Of Violence (with Charlie Hunter), Rollaskate (Let The Music Move Your Soul)

(BEN HARPER & THE INNOCENT CRIMINALS) : Don’t Take That Attitude To Your Grave/Concrete Jungle, Whipping Boy, Ground On Down, Faded, Burn One Down, Excuse Me Mr., Breakin’ Down, Homeless Child, Gold In Me/Fight For Your Mind, Roses From My Friends, The Will To Live

Though I had traveled great distances and even out of state a few times for the Grateful Dead, this would be the only time I’d ever do this for a festival. This wasn’t that long of trek, Angel Camp being only about three hours and change east of San Francisco, but it was far enough. The Mountain Aire festival takes place every year up in the Sierras and had been as far back as the 70s in this place which prides itself as the location where Mark Twain wrote his breakthrough short story “The Celebrated Jumping Frog Of Calaveras County”. Story goes he wrote it after overhearing the tall tale from a drunk in a local saloon there. I knew the story well, but why I hadn’t heard of the Mountain Aire festival before this year is a mystery to me but better late than never. It took place in the Calaveras County Fairgrounds and attendees were allowed to camp in the parking lot, which I and my girlfriend Lisa did, but only for Saturday night. Tempting as it was to stick around for the second day of the show, we weren’t big enough fans of the headliner Widespread Panic, to shell out the loot, that and the fact that Train was playing the second day, a band I would actually pay money not to see. Still, I was jealous of those who got to see Ozomatli and Big Bad Voodoo Daddy who were on that line up, but one day would be enough for me. I regret not going up there again to see another of the Mountain Aire festivals. As far as I can tell, there hasn’t been one since 2010, but I hope that I am wrong and I’ll get another chance some day.

We made pretty good time getting there, but missed a couple of the opening acts including Pete Droge, a Canadian singer/songwriter who I’d seen once before at the Bridge School Benefit, and got to the stage as Wilco was beginning their third song which was “California Stars”, from their upcoming album “Mermaid Avenue” which would be released exactly a month after this show. This was a collaboration between them and the British singer Billy Bragg and was a collection of songs originally written by Woody Guthrie. Woody, nearing the end of his life was suffering from Huntington’s disease and frustrated that he couldn’t perform or record anymore, wrote lyrics to these tunes and more in the hope that someone would record them in the future. After Woody died, his daughter Nora approached Billy and he in turn recruited Wilco to be his band. Although or perhaps because the album was a critical and commercial hit, even getting nominated for a Grammy for Best Contemporary Folk Album, Billy and Wilco were soon butting heads over the royalties and never played together again. 

Both Billy and Wilco would go on to play these songs separately, and we got three in a row that night, the aforementioned “California Stars” (arguably the best song on the album), “Hesitating Beauty”, and “Christ For President”. It’s easy to love “California Stars”, real sweet, catchy, and sentimental, and I even learned to play it on guitar myself. It’s pretty easy song to do actually, just three chords. Jeff Tweedy the singer joked that he hoped he got the words right” singing the new, or technically old material. Wilco also dusted off an old song from Uncle Tupelo, Jeff’s old band, called “New Madrid”. He joked between songs asking if any of the hippies in the crowd, “Anybody see Dylan in the 60’s?” I think they had trouble with their piano, Jeff complaining that it was out of tune. Unfortunately, my batteries ran out and I didn’t get the last three songs of their set, including the finale, the cover of Daniel Johnston’s “True Love Will Find You In The End”. This would be the first time for me seeing Wilco, but I’d see them a few more times in the years to come.

Next up was Charlie Hunter, who I had seen plenty of times before, though this was the first I’d see him with the Pound 4 Pound band. He’d moved to New York City and signed to Blue Note a few years back and just released his fourth album on that label called “Return Of The Candyman”. Along side him, he had Willard Dyson on drums as well as Monte Croft on vibraphone, an instrument one rarely sees in any band. It was good to see Charlie playing to such a large crowd and these being hippies, I imagine this was the first time any of them heard him. I suppose it was inevitable that he’d show his face to the hippies eventually, since many of his contemporaries like his former Charlie Hunter Trio bandmates Dave Ellis and Jay Lane had participated in various musical projects of the remaining members of the Grateful Dead. Charlie played incredibly as always, especially for his cover of Bob Marley’s “Them Belly Full” and ending the set with a cover of The Supreme’s “You Keep Me Hanging On”. I always get a kick out of people seeing him for the first time, astounded that he can play both bass and guitar lines simultaneously on his custom 8-string guitar. Though I’m used to see Charlie playing to the wee hours of the night indoors in dark jazz clubs, I thought he fit in well as a middle act in a festival, giving people a minute to relax in the sunshine. He should do more of them.

Third up was Spearhead, who I was already very familiar with having only seen them the month before at the Fillmore and they pretty much played the same set. Now Michael Franti had one of his giant feet firmly planted in the realm of hippies and would remain a favorite of theirs to this day. Before their set, Lisa and I spotted him and his band huddled in a circle in silent prayer. I clumsily pointed it out to Lisa as we walked past, though quickly realized that my voice might have been carrying and felt embarrassed. Thankfully, my thoughtlessness didn’t impact their set, for they were tip top, probably one of the best shows I’d ever see them play and I’d go on to see them plenty more times in the future. It mostly was the same set as their Fillmore show, but Franti and the band did their share of improvising. 

Early on, he did a little bit of freestyle, singing, “remember in Oklahoma… You tried to blame it on an arab…”, a reference to the hysteria immediately after the Oklahoma City Bombing in 1995. Then during, “Food For The Masses”, they had a breakdown in the middle of the song where the bass player did a few bars of both “Walk On The Wild Side” by Lou Reed and “Rapper’s Delight” by The Sugar Hill Gang. They also did a little of Bob Marley’s “Get Up Stand Up” and P-Funk’s “Knee Deep” in the middle of “Piece O’ Peace” as I heard them do before. If that wasn’t enough, they did bits of “I Feel Good” by James Brown, “No Diggity” by Blackstreet, and “Simply Beautiful” by Al Green. They covered a lot of ground, that’s for certain.

Trinna Simmons, Franti’s back up, or more accurately co-singer, got a lot of applause and laughs that day. Her voice was incredible, actually reminding me a lot of Karina from the Dance Hall Crashers, lots of power and razor sharp pitch. Between songs, she strolled over to the bass player and asked, “Is there anything more sexy than a bald headed brother playing bass?” Franti countered pointing out his keyboardist, saying “Is there anything more sexy than a woman playing keys?” They would playfully goad each other further on in the set trying to rile up the crowd on their sides, she ribbing Franti, “You’re just mad cus’ my side’s louder” and he countered, “Nah, you’re side’s weak.” He later mocked people on the news declaring that the El Nino was over, saying it was just because it was Sweeps Week on TV, mentioning Seinfeld’s last episode had just aired the other day. Trinna interjected, “Coincidence? I think not” and Franti quipped, “Now, it’s El Green-Yo!”

Then what I hoped would happen, happened at last. Franti started introducing Charlie Hunter, telling the story of how he met Charlie when he was working at Subway Guitars in Berkeley, which incidentally is still in business to this day. There, Charlie had strolled into the store with a basketball under his arm and they hit it off. Franti said, “Yo! If you a ball player and play guitar, you’re alright by me”. They then formed a duo and eventually collected a couple more members to ultimately form the Disposable Heroes Of Hiphopricy. I was fortunate to see them but once opening for Nirvana in 1993 at the Cow Palace and by that time Charlie had already moved on from the band. But the two were nothing but smiles on stage and they did the Heroes song, “Language Of Violence” together. I can’t recall if I ever had the honor of seeing them play together since.

Afterwards, Leftover Salmon played, mistakenly called the plural “The Leftover Salmons” by Franti as he ended his set. This would be the first time I’d see them and was absolutely impressed by the skill and commitment to showing the crowd a fun time. One of them declared after their first song, “It don’t get no better than Mountain Aire! Man, you thought the campground was fun last night?” Not only were they an excellent bluegrass band, but they would weave in and out of all kinds of genres like rock and zydeco. They were from Boulder, Colorado and one of them commented between songs that the campgrounds and cabins around there reminded them of their home. Unfortunately, my tape deck ran out of batteries AGAIN near the end of their set, so I missed a few of their songs as well. I was using a lot of half used AA batteries from work to save money and I never could predict just how much juice they had in them. I have to admit, it’s pretty funny hearing a band like them  when the recordings go faster and faster as the motors in the tape deck go slower and slower. Leftover Salmon plays their notes so fast to begin with, it’s like The Chipmunks on speed or crack or something. 

I hope that some day in the future when I have time on my hands or somebody else wants to do it, that these sped up songs can be digitally slowed down and corrected. We have the technology. It can be done. I was able to find a good bootleg of Spearhead’s set that day, but was only able to find a bootleg of Salmon’s set on the second day. I still can’t find a setlist from the first day and I imagine they are the kind of band that likes to mix up their sets every night, so I can’t rightly say all what they played. I do know that for a fact that they did “Bend In The River”,“Gold Hill Rail” and “Nothing But Time”, all three songs that weren’t played on the second day. I still liked them and always will. They are one of the few bluegrass bands that play loud enough that people shut up and listen, and if they don’t shut up, I can at least hear them play.

Finally, wrapping up the festival was Ben Harper and his band, The Innocent Criminals. I’d seen him the year before headlining for the first time at The Warfield. He had just released his album, “The Will To Live” only the week before that show, but by this time, he and his band had plenty of time getting the songs down pat and they certainly did. Ben had come into his own and it felt right that he was a headliner for a festival. The guy’s a star. Like the H.O.R.D.E. tour, I appreciated that every act that day got at least an hour to play. Lots of the rock festivals, especially hip hop ones keep the earlier sets frustratingly short. After Ben finished, Lisa and I pitched our tent in the parking lot and I caught a couple songs of Galactic, who played an after hours set in a tent from midnight to 4 AM, though I didn’t tape them. I might as well have stayed for their whole show, since I didn’t sleep well and never do when camping, sadly. I love the great outdoors, I just hate sleeping in it. 

No big loss since I kew I’d get my chance soon enough to see Galactic again as they played a show at the Fillmore only two days later with none other than Charlie Hunter & Pound 4 Pound. I think that show would be the last time I’d see Charlie play with that particular band, so I’m grateful I got to see him twice in short succession with them. God knows, I’ve seen Galactic plenty of times since, each time playing long sets, and there is certainly no shortage of their live material available around. One final memory of this show was when Lisa and I pulled over for a moment on our way back home to check out a river bank, probably the Stanislaus River. It was sunny and warm out, so I tried to convince her to strip down to our undies and take a dunk, but she was a little bashful about it. Lisa was wise not to because despite the warm weather, the water was freezing cold and I didn’t last long in it. At least I got a bit of bath, which after a night of camping, I’m sure I needed and it sure as hell woke me right back up. I admit, it is nice to hear Lisa’s voice on these recordings talking and laughing from time to time. That was fun trip.

Sonic Youth, Fuck, rRope, Fill., SF, Tues., May 26, 1998

SETLIST : Karen Koltrane, Female Mechanic Now On Duty, Sunday, Anagrama, Hits Of Sunshine (For Allen Ginsberg), The Ineffable Me, Hoarfrost, French Tickler, Wildflower Soul, Heather Angel, (encore), Stil, Shadow Of A Doubt, Death Valley 69

It had been three long years since Sonic Youth headlined the Lollapalooza festival, of which I caught them twice, once at Cal Expo and once at Shoreline. Between those shows, their set at the Tibetan Freedom Concert, and the four times I saw them at the Warfield, an early and a late show in 1993 and two shows in 1995, one would think that seven times in three years was plenty. But like I said, it had been a while and this time, I’d be witnessing them performing in a small venue for once. Likewise, they were seemingly in the mood themselves to put the big rock scene behind them for a spell with their latest endeavor, “A Thousand Leaves”, their tenth studio album, released two weeks to the day before this show. They originally called the album by its French translation, “Mille Feuille”, which is also the name of a pastry that has several layers of delicate, paper thin cakes. 

The band had taken their hard earned cash from Lollapalooza and put together their own recording studio in lower Manhattan, calling it Echo Canyon, and this would be the first of three albums they’d make there. The members were starting to settle down and have kids, including Kim Gordon and Thurston Moore who had a daughter together named Coco in 1994. They said she learned to walk while on tour with them at Lollapalooza. With their own studio, they were able to monkey around and experiment with their sound again, distancing themselves from the more structured radio friendly tunes, though their stuff has never been, shall we say, top 40 material… thank God for that. After 16 years of non-stop touring, they were looking to enjoy a more leisurely life and the new album reflected that.

This was the second of a three night stint at the Fillmore and like most runs at that venue that had more than two nights, there was a poster and it was a good one. The first on stage that night was a band called rRope. Why they spelled it that way is anybody’s guess, but one might surmise that Rope, spelled normally was already taken, and their spelling had the added bonus of being easier to look up and not be confused with any other rope related subjects. They started as a couple guys from Leadville, Colorado renowned for being the town with highest elevation in America, over 10,000 feet up. They descended from that high town and settled in San Francisco and played for a few years until this show. It was a good thing I caught them when I did, since they said opening for Sonic Youth was the last show they ever did. I don’t know if they played with Sonic Youth at any other gigs on the tour, but it is at least certain that this was the last time they played in San Francisco. I thought they were alright, playing a short, but bombastic half an hour.

The second opener of the evening was a band that needs no introduction… at least around impressionable children. That band was Fuck… you heard me. One would think that this would be an obvious name for a band to choose, being short, easy to remember, and ensured to evoke and emotional response. Still, their music wasn’t as confrontational as their name would suggest. Some of their songs were downright quiet. I suppose it is appropriate that a band with such a vulgar name would meet when the members were stuck in a holding cell in Oakland, (for unspecified offenses), and even wrote a couple of their tunes while they were in jail together. They bounced around record labels until they got signed by Matador and released the album “Conduct” the year of this show. Some brain-dead dipshit marketing clown there insisted that they change their name, so they took their business elsewhere. Maybe this marketing guy was hoping that he’d get them to play kid’s parties or something. Anyway, it was a good thing these guys hooked up with Sonic Youth, since the drummer Steve Shelley took a liking to them and signed them onto his label, Smells Like Records, after this tour. Though Fuck never made it big, unlike rRope, they are still around and even did a two night stint at the now defunct Hemlock Tavern in 2018, a block from where I used to live in the Tenderloin.

It is a blessing and a curse that Sonic Youth was showcasing their new material almost exclusively that night. In fact, they played all new songs except for the last two in the set and the two songs in the encore. The blessing is that we were all getting the privilege of hearing them live for the first time and in doing so, embracing the band’s new musical direction. The curse on the other hand was that those hoping for a greatest hits set would obviously leave disappointed and as it turns out, they never or very rarely played any of the songs from this album live ever again. Lee Ranaldo got to sing in a couple songs that show, including the opening song, “Karen Koltrane” and “Hoarfrost” later that set. Lee incidentally has the same birthday as my wife, February 3rd. Sonic Youth produced only one music video from the new album for the song “Sunday”, which was the third song they played at this gig. The video was creepy as hell frankly, starring a 17 year old Macaulay Culkin making leering faces, licking his lips, and making out with Rachel Miner in slow motion and the rest was teenage ballerinas dancing in fast motion. Figures that it was directed by the guy who wrote the movie, “Kids”. (shutter!)

The fifth song they played in their set was “Hits Of Sunshine (For Allen Ginsberg)”, a sprawling 11 minute jam on the album, truncated to only five minutes for the show. From the title, it clearly was an homage to the late beat poet who had passed away the year before this show. Being in San Francisco, maybe Allen’s ghost was in the house that night. At least the die hard fans were treated to one golden oldie, when they finished their encore with “Death Valley 69”, originally recorded in 1984 with Lydia Lunch. Keeping with the band’s new leisurely attitude, it would take literally another four years and a single day before I would get a chance to see Sonic Youth again. Once more, they would play the Fillmore, that time for the first night of a two day stint, and it would also have a poster. 

Actually, they did come back once in 1999 to headline their own so-called “This Is Not A Festival” festival with Sleater-Kinney, Guided By Voices, Superchunk, and other no-fi musical acts. It was at the Greek in Berkeley and though I can’t remember why I didn’t go, I do remember that tour had some very conspicuous rules for those attending. They forbade anyone attending from wearing floppy hats or having beach balls, which I have no real issue with, but I do remember being a little miffed at their rule that anybody caught playing hackey sack would be removed from the show. I enjoyed playing hackey sack back then. It was fun, creative, good exercise, and a nice way to meet people. Incidentally, the skill is also useful. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve dropped something and have either caught it with the top of my foot, or at least helped reduce the impact of the objects fall enough to prevent it from breaking. Then again, I’ve also hurt my foot instinctually trying to do the same thing with an object that was a little too heavy. Regardless, to impose such a rule in Berkeley is especially offensive when one need look no further than the flea market at Ashby BART station, People’s Park, or Sproul Plaza to find a circle of folks masterfully practicing the art. OK, kicking around the sack is probably not very punk, but I found their rule at that show rather oppressive. That’s not punk either. Maybe if the members of Sonic Youth had learned how to play hackey sack, they’d have been more tolerant of it.

Galactic, Charlie Hunter & Pound For Pound, Fill., SF, Thur., May 28, 1998

I had just come home a few days before this show from the Mountain Aire Festival up in Calaveras County where both Galactic and Charlie with his new band, Pound For Pound, performed. I had only seen a bit of Galactic up there, they playing a late night set in a tent from midnight to 4 am and I was too shagged out from the trip up and the all day festival to see it to the end. I did, however enjoyed Charlie’s set, especially when he came out later during Spearhead’s set to play a Disposable Heroes Of Hiphopricy song with his old bandmate, singer Michael Franti. Charlie is a musical genius and any time seeing him play is always worthwhile. As happy as I was to be at this show, the joy of the evening was tempered with the tragic news of the death of comedian Phil Hartman. His wife, afflicted with substance abuse issues for years and facing their impending divorce, shot him and then herself. Terrible news, but selfishly my first thought hearing the news was that “The Simpsons” would be losing Lionel Hutz and Troy McClure, two of the series’ funniest characters. I still feel bad about that.

Charlie opened and closed his set with his covers of The Supremes’ “Keep Me Hanging On” and Bob Marley’s “Them Belly Full” respectively, both of which he had played up at Mountain Aire. Speaking of Marley, I would coincidentally be recording his fellow bandmate Bunny Wailer the following night at the Maritime. I was disappointed that he didn’t do his version of Steve Miller’s “Fly Like An Eagle” which had been the big hit off his new album, “Return Of The Candyman”, but it didn’t take anything away from the brilliance of everything else he played that night. Once again, vibraphone player Monte Croft masterfully hit the mallets at mind boggling speed. Lionel Hampton would have been proud. There were plenty of guests sitting in with Charlie including Galactic’s drummer, Stanton Moore, who himself had collaborated with Charlie and his contemporaries. Stanton had just released his own solo album called “All Kooked Out!” just nine days before this show and Charlie helped out on it as well. Guitarist Will Bernard also toured with Stanton’s trio and Will had been in T.J. Kirk with Charlie, playing at the Maritime the year before. Charlie also played with Stanton in Garage A Trois too and I’d see them play in that band together at the Fillmore 5 years later. John Santos showed to play percussion as he did on the Pound For Pound album and if that wasn’t enough, Dave Ellis, the saxophonist from Charlie’s old trio played too. Dave had been making a name for himself around hippie circles playing with various incarnations of the Dead, along with fellow Trio alumni, drummer Jay Lane.

Galactic played excellently as always, doing a satisfying two hour set. Charlie came out and played with them as well. The singer pumped up the crowd between songs, declaring, “We got the funk up in here!” They brought just that, a little taste from their home town of New Orleans. Though I didn’t really know their music or the names of their songs, I’m sure they played some new material that they would release four months later in their second album, “Crazy Mongoose”. I knew one song, “Something’s Wrong With This Picture”, for sure they played from their first album, but that’s only because the singer sang the title line repeatedly. Lastly, they gave out a rare horizontal poster at the end of the evening. I wouldn’t have to wait long to see Galactic again since they’d return to play the Fillmore just six months later with Robert Walter’s 20th Congress, but this would be last time I’d see Charlie play with the Pound For Pound band. At least I got to see them twice in a row within a few days to get know them.

Bunny Wailer, Maritime Hall, SF, Fri., May 29, 1998

I suppose it was inevitable that Mr. Neville O’Riley Livingston AKA Bunny Wailer would show at the Hall eventually. Every other reggae star was. But Bunny was special, being the only surviving founding member of Wailers, Bob Marley succumbing to cancer in 1981 and Peter Tosh murdered during a home invasion in 1987. Though Bunny had left the Wailers in 1973, eclipsed by Bob’s stardom, he went on to have an illustrious career of his own, winning three Grammy awards. This show was being billed as him touring with a 17 piece band, which I thought was a bit of an exaggeration. I mean, there was probably 17 instruments involved, a horn section for sure, but clearly there weren’t 17 members of his band. Whatever. The show also billed it as it was to be a four hour set, though it clocked out as two and change.

I have to admit, it certainly FELT like it was a four hour show. As reverent as I was to the reggae royalty in the house, I was astounded at the amount of talking Bunny did between songs. He’d clock in as much as five or six minutes some of the breaks. There are only a handful of artists that can go on that long, Robyn Hitchcock and Richie Havens come to mind. Between his verbosity and the endless parade of joints passed to me by Pete over the course of the evening, it felt as if I’d been there for a week by the time it was over. Not that it was an unpleasant experience, far from it. I found Bunny to be a warm and loving person, graciously thanking the crowd from the get go, saying, “it’s good to see the reggae family together again” and declaring it “the greatest music in the world” which “brought so many races together”. 

During one break, he talked of how people made mistakes, but the creator doesn’t make mistakes, creating the great garden of life and that creator lives in every living substance. He said everyone is acceptable in the sight of that creator. Later, he called on the crowd to “go back in time” to 2000 years ago speaking of a man of virtue. He said, “some call him Jesus, some call him Buddha, some call him Mohammed”, but it “doesn’t matter what he’s called, but what he stands for… unity, one love, one heart… to come together and make it right”. But then he said one thing you never do see is a bald headed Jesus and then played the song, “Baldhead Jesus”. He’s right of course, though people pretty much agree that Buddha was bald, or at least ultimately became bald. Seriously, I thought it would be fun to make a drinking game where one would take a shot every time Bunny said, “Jah Rastafari”. If one tried, they would be so drunk by the end of the set, that they’d need to get their stomach pumped.

As expected, Bunny broke out some of the classic Wailers material like “Chase Those Crazy Baldheads”, “No Woman, No Cry”, “Simmer Down”, “Hypocrite”, and finishing the night with “Keep On Moving” which he wrote personally. As lionized as Bob Marley is, people forget all the people he had around him in his band that helped write and perform the music. Coincidentally, the night before, Charlie Hunter played a cover of The Wailers’, “Them Belly Full” at The Fillmore. Small world, eh? Bunny also honored his former bandmate, Peter Tosh, covering his world famous marijuana anthem, “Legalize It”, and it goes without saying that it soon became cloudy in the recording room as well as upstairs at the show. He thanked the crowd before the last song saying it was “a pleasure and a privilege”. And as usual at these reggae nights, Rocky Allen Bailey was there to emcee, shouting out at the end, “What a show!… The reggae music!… The music with the message!… Do you get the message!?!”

Though I did’t keep a copy of the recording we did, I was able to find a half decent bootleg of it on YouTube. It was a touch overdriven, but sounded marginally better than anything I’d get on my tape deck, so I’ll take it. Speaking of tape decks, the bootleg I found was obviously recorded on one since you can hear during the recording in two places where the guy literally turns the cassette over which I found quite charming actually. Months after the show, Pete was given the go ahead to mix down the ADATs from that night to make an album which was stellar news to me, a real feather in my cap for my resume. God knows, we had enough material from that night to work with and I spent several hours with Pete at his studio in San Rafael as he painstakingly went over the songs, making them perfect. For some reason, that album was never released which came as a great disappointment to me as you might imagine. To this day, I still don’t know why that happened and it seems like a colossal waste. At least I’d get to see Bunny perform at the Hall again only five months later and since Pete had already done Bunny and mixed down the songs from this show, he let me record that one myself. The honor was doubly so, since opening that night was none other than Andrew Tosh, Peter’s son.

Funkdoobiest, Ras Kas, Psycho Realm, Delinquent Habits, Maritime Hall, SF,  Sat., May 30, 1998

SETLISTS :

(DELINQUENT HABITS) : 1 Adam 12, Lower East Side, Western Ways, Wallah, Tres Delinquentes, Here Come The Horns

PSYCHO REALM : Premonitions, Showdown, Sick Dogs, Stone Garden, Psycho City Blocks, Confessions Of A Drug Addict

I once again was given the reins of the recording room for this hip hop show headlined by Funkdoobiest. They had a couple songs from their first album, “Superhoes” and “Pussy Ain’t Shit” on the soundtrack of Ice Cube’s hit comedy, “Friday”  and they had just released their third album, “The Troubleshooters”. All that and the talent backing them up that night wasn’t enough to pack the house, the crowd being conspicuously sparse. But it still was a good show, especially because of the first band, Delinquent Habits. It was the first show of this tour and they did what they could to get what few people showed up on the dance floor to get into it. One of them goaded them on asking, “Is it too hot in here? We’re trying our best!” and saying that the folks backstage who were already smoking and drinking wouldn’t come out if people didn’t start partying harder. I liked their song “Tres Delinquentes” which used the famous horn riff from Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass’, “The Lonely Bull”. Don’t get that riff stuck in your head. It’ll be there for a while. As usual, Boots misspelled at least one name on the monthly poster, referring to them in the singular, “Delinquent Habit”.

The real draw from the show at least for me was the prospect of recording Psycho Realm which had none other than B Real from Cypress Hill rapping with them. He had seen the brothers, Big Duke and  Sick Jacken, perform at a End Barrio Warfare concert on Olvera Street in L.A. and decided to take a break from his endless touring with Cypress Hill to join these guys and produce their stuff. Sen Dog from Cypress Hill also produced the Habits first album and DJ Muggs helped produce Funkdoobiest’s first couple albums as well, making this show a Cypress Hill proxy extravaganza. I liked Psycho Realm and I could see why B Real took a liking to them, sounding a lot like Cypress Hill, and having a conga player backing them up as well. There was a predictable amount of weed smoking in the house and even they were introduced coming out on stage saying, “Excuse these guys. They’ve been smoking out all day”. At the end of their set, B Real made sure to give a plug for Cypress Hill’s fourth album, the appropriately titled “Cypress Hill IV” coming out that September. I would see them play their new stuff at The Fillmore that November.

But this would be the only time I’d see Psycho Realm because tragically Big Duke was shot in the neck only eight months later, leaving him paralyzed from the neck down, a bit of sad irony having met B Real at a benefit to end violence. Poor Duke was trying to break up a fight when he was stricken by a perp on parole. The perp would eventually be put away for attempted murder, but Psycho Realm was done for and B Real returned to Cypress Hill full time again. It’s a pity. Psycho Realm had just finished their second album. 

Ras Kass was there too, always being misspelled as “Ras Kas” when he plays the hall. His real name is John R. Austin IV which is understandably not a very effective name for a rapper. He took his stage name from the Ethiopian emperor, Yohannes IV, whose real name was Rass Kasa Mircha, another fourth in his family line with the same name. He’d played the Hall already twice before, opening for the Hieroglyphics both times the year before, and would show up again at various hip hop gigs there in the future. We were having trouble scaring up people to man the cameras for the videos back then, so there was only a wide shot from the balcony that night. Nobody wants to work for free in show biz, even if it does get them into the show and get some video experience under their belt. The cameraperson shortage would ultimately lead Boots to construct the robot camera system which would come online the following January. 

Slayer, Clutch, System Of A Down, War., SF, Sun., May 31, 1998

SETLISTS :

(SYSTEM OF A DOWN) : Suite Pee, X, Sugar, Suggestions, DDevil, Mins, War?, Darts

(SLAYER) : Hell Awaits, Spirit In Black, War Ensemble, Death’s Head, South Of Heaven, Dittohead, Captor Of Sin, Die By The Sword, Black Magic, Stain Of Mind, Raining Blood, Altar Of Sacrifice, Jesus Saves, Dead Skin, Sex. Murder. Art., Chemical Warfare, (encore), Mandatory Suicide, Angel Of Death

It had been a long time coming, but I finally got to see the one and only Slayer. They had been synonymous with all things metal for years. Hell, even people at other metal shows would yell out their name. The most I knew of them at the time was their appearance in the long form music video of the Beastie Boys’ “Fight For Your Right To Party”. Rick Rubin had produced both acts back then and he once again was collaborating with Slayer on their eight album, “Diabolus In Musica”, which was just about to come out only nine days after this show. That title is derived from a musical term for the tritone musical interval, composed of 3 adjacent whole tones which medieval people forbade, thinking that the dissidence would summon the devil. Whether the devil was in the house that night, I cannot say, but I think either he or God would have been impressed by the show. I was lucky to catch this one since when their old drummer Dave Lombardo rejoined the band, they would rarely play any of the songs from this album except for “Stain Of Mind”.

Before I go any further, I must first report of possibly the funniest thing I’d ever seen that occurred before this show, easily one of the funniest things I’ve ever witnessed in my entire life to this day. While waiting to get into The Warfield to usher that night, I was in front of the entrance as always with the other ushers. While waiting, I watched as the “Jesus Saves From Hell” people were picketing the show, one of them as always berating the fans in line with a bullhorn, telling them about how much trouble they were in and so forth. It’s always a badge of honor for any metal or punk show when these Bible thumpers show up. Well, one of Slayer’s minions decided that enough was enough, took one of the “Jesus Saves From Hell” signs one of them was carrying, and proceeded to beat that guy with the bullhorn about his head and shoulders with it. Seriously, I laughed for about two weeks straight after seeing that epic bit of physical comedy. I laughed so much that it hurt. I couldn’t help but imagine even God was laughing his divine ass off in heaven watching this unfold as well. The only way it could be funnier is if the sign went through the bull horn guys head, resting like a collar on his shoulders, him falling to the ground with cartoon stars and birdies circling his head, and Edwin G. Robinson pointing and mocking him, shouting, “Where’s your messiah now!?!?” At least, security and the cops were there to break it up before anyone was seriously hurt. To this day, the memory of that beat down sustains me in my darkest hours. 

This would be the first time Slayer would headline the Warfield, but wouldn’t be the last. I would see them play there a whopping four more times, including in 2001 when they recorded the “War At The Warfield” DVD. Bass player and vocalist, Tom Araya, was about to become a new father, his son, Tomas being born just two weeks later. It was a forgone conclusion that it would be a night of heavy music, but I was pleasantly surprised at the diversity of the acts on the bill. First up was System Of A down, who were pretty new back then. Their frantic, freaky punk style was original and in sharp contrast to Slayer’s, but I was impressed and I think the crowd was too.  Their first album wasn’t even out then, due to be released at the end of the month, so I was caught unawares, hearing the insane ratings of their singer, Serj Tankian. He opened the show denouncing the aforementioned Bible thumpers out front, screaming, “Freedom of expression, motherfuckers!!!”. 

He’d continue his cryptic rantings between songs, asking, “What killed the Kennedy’s!?! Hypnotic suggestions! Mind control at its best!”. Before their song “War?” near the end of their short set, he lamented loudly that he was “sick of seeing little children dying for profits! I’m sick of my life! I’m sick of your life! It’s time for a new war!!!” Serj did take a break from his ramblings enough once to thank Slayer. He definitely was on cloud nine, saying it was a privilege to be opening for them. I learned that they loved Slayer so much, they chose the name of their band specifically because it would put their albums close to them alphabetically in record stores. I’d see them one more time in 2000, that time as a headliner for the Snocore tour with Mr. Bungle and Incubus. After that they got so big, they would move onto larger arenas.

Unfortunately, my recording started breaking up as their set was nearing its end. I think the earbud I was using was having a short or it’s input jack was coming loose or coming out of the tape deck. This break up of the signal continued well into Clutch’s set, but ended thankfully in time to catch their last few songs. I’d already seen and recorded Clutch at the Maritime a couple times before, including a show they headlined, taking the place of Limp Bizkit there just three moths before this show, so I was familiar with them already. Like System Of A Down, they were heavy as hell, but not really a metal band. Still, the Slayer crowd liked them and moshed to their music. I can’t say what songs they played, since my recording was garbled for so long, other than “The Elephant Riders” and “Ship Of Gold” at the end when it cleared up at last.

The mosh pit exploded as one would expect the moment Slayer took the stage. I was understandably anxious at the prospect of having to usher for this crowd, but I was pleasantly surprised to discover that Slayer fans weren’t concerned about blocking the aisles. Indeed, the ones were steadfastly determined to get to the front did so without delay or apology, marching straight in without batting an eyelash. Tom welcomed the crowd announcing, “We’re Slayer and we’re here to rock your world!!!” before launching into “Hell Awaits”. I was cut from ushering soon enough and went back to the floor to witness this heavy metal spectacle. There were no shortage of crowd floaters, so many in fact, that the security guys at the barricade were having trouble keeping up with their sheer numbers. Tom even pleaded with the crowd between songs, “You guys are coming over too quickly. A guy was taken to the side of the stage, hurt pretty bad. Nobody’s saying you can’t have fun. Just be careful!” It was definitely loud enough that my recording came out clear, but I was lucky enough to find a half decent video recording done by somebody in the audience. One could hear a handful of Germans in the background between songs chatting to each other in their native language. There was no poster given out at the end of the night, but everybody not wise enough to wear earplugs got to go home with the souvenir of severe tinnitus. 

The Other Ones, War., SF, Thur., June 4, 1998

SETLIST : (SET 1) Jack Straw, Sugaree, Minglewood Blues, Easy Answers, Loser, Goin’ Down The Road Feelin’ Bad, Scarlet Begonias, Fire On The Mountain, China Cat Sunflower, I Know You Rider, (SET 2) Box Of Rain, Friend Of The Devil, Playing In The Band, Space Jam – Drums, Preacher In The Ring, Banyan Tree, Playing In The Band (reprise), St. Stephen, The Eleven, Turn On Your Lovelight

I suppose it was fitting that I had three hippie shows in a row following seeing Slayer at The Warfield the previous Sunday, this one and two nights of Zero at the Maritime. The boys from the Dead having branched out into their own musical projects since the death of Jerry Garcia almost three years prior had finally coalesced into a band again, well, at least three of them and Bruce Hornsby. This time around it was Bob Weir, Mickey Hart, and Phil Lesh. Kruetzman had taken a pass, choosing to take some well earned R & R in Hawaii, scuba diving and such. But it wouldn’t be long until Bill would show his face on stage again. He would join Merl Saunders playing drums with his Funky Friends band opening for Toots & The Maytals at the Maritime for New Year’s Eve. After that, he’d join The Other Ones after Phil had a falling out with Mickey and went back to playing with his Phil & Friends project. Poor Phil fell ill with Hepatitis C three months after this show and would get a liver transplant that December. Mickey, being his usual boorish self, joked that “Phil might have gotten the liver of a jerk”. The falling out caused a unique dilemma in 2000 when both Phil & Friends and The Other Ones held competing New Year’s Eve shows that year, forcing their fans to make the musical equivalent of Sophie’s Choice. I was seeing Les Claypool that night at The Fillmore anyway, so it didn’t bother me, but if I had to choose, I’d probably have gone with Phil. He was playing the Henry J. Kaiser in Oakland and it also was a smaller venue than the Coliseum where The Other Ones were. Still, tough call. Alphonso Johnson, who I’d recorded doing Jazz Is Dead at the Maritime six weeks before this show, would replace Phil until they all kissed and made up and Phil returned to The Other Ones in 2002.

Anyway, the boys were together for the time being doing this benefit for the Rainforest Action Network and it goes without saying that the show was sold out. Backing up the founders were an impressive line up of young ringers. Dave Ellis, who I’d just seen the week before do a surprise cameo with his old bandmate Charlie Hunter, of whom he played in his old Trio, at The Fillmore, was on sax. He’d already been touring with Bobby in RatDog for a while along with fellow Charlie Hunter Trio alumni Jay Lane on drums. John Molo was filling in for Bill on drums for The Other Ones and would play with Phil & Friends for years to come. There was also Mark Karan on guitar and Steve Kimock would be having a busy weekend also on guitar playing that night as well as with Zero at the Maritime the next couple nights. So, there was plenty of talent there to make Bobby and Mickey look good.

Once again, the hippie crowd would prove to be a handful since I had to work through the first set, the set break, and the beginning of the second set, just like I had to for Jerry’s band. Folks were mostly cool and paid top dollar to get in, so I did my best to be polite and maintain my cool. It was a solid first set and it was nice that they later let Phil sing “Box Of Rain” and then do a verse during “Goin’ Down The Road Feelin’ Bad” and “St. Stephen” in the second set. Mickey also busted out a steel drum for “Scarlet Begonias” but Dear God, the band made the unspeakable atrocity of having Mickey do some kind of awful rap thing during “Fire On The Mountain”. Never had I missed Jerry more than at that moment. I’d never thought I’d be relieved to hear Bobby sing again, but I was when he continued singing afterwards with “China Cat Sunflower”. They had a long stretch in the second set after they started “Playing In The Band”, where Bruce did quite a bit of noodling on the piano, that went into the obligatory drum session, then into “Preacher In The Ring”, another jam session, then “Banyan Tree”, before finishing up with a reprise of “Playing In The Band”. It clocked in over a half an hour by the time it wrapped up. 

I appreciated that they dusted off “The Eleven”, their song that is played in 11/4 time before bringing the show to close with “Lovelight”. As luck would have it, Zero would close the second night at the Maritime with “Lovelight” as well. I guess Kimock already had it down pat anyway. As I written before, I didn’t tape the Dead myself when they were together since so many other people did, but I would go on to record all the offshoot bands myself. My recording got a little garbled for a couple songs during the second set, but thankfully, I was able to find a good bootleg of the show on line as expected. Though this would be the only time I’d see these boys together as The Other Ones, it would be one of several times The Warfield would put on with various Dead incarnations, most of which would be benefits like this one, and thankfully there would be a poster for all of them. God knows these hippies can afford it. 

Zero, Greyboy All-Star Sidecar, Will Bernard 4-Tet, Maritime Hall, SF, Fri., June 5, 1998

Zero, 3:05 AM, Maritime Hall, SF,  Sat., June 6, 1998

SETLIST : (Saturday) : Tongue N’ Groove, Berm, Cripple Creek, No Expectations, Rigor Mortis, Home On The Range, Mona, Not Fade Away, Lovelight, Mona (reprise), Out In The Woods, Roll Me Over, La Fiesta, All Blue, La Fiesta (reprise), Anorexia, Like A Rolling Stone, Gregg’s Eggs, (encore), Little Wing

I had just finished seeing The Other Ones at The Warfield the day before these shows, so I was getting a heavy dose of hippie music to balance out getting my fillings rattled out by Slayer the previous Sunday. I had recorded Zero enough already at the Maritime to the point where we weren’t going to bother doing it at all anymore, but these shows were being billed specifically as “Recording Live” shows, so it was compulsory. We were given assurances that they would indeed use songs recorded from these two shows to be put on a live album and I can report that they did so. As usual, the albums, “Nothin’ Lasts Forever” and “Double Zero” which they would go on to release listed no dates or which songs were recorded when, but Pete and I were just grateful that our efforts were finally rewarded. I admit, I have been hard on Zero in the past and it’s not fair. Indeed, every time I see a hippie show, I can’t help but think of that episode of “The Young Ones” where Vyvian’s punk friends attack Neil at their party, screaming, “Kill The Hippie!” But Zero’s fans love them and it’s hard to deny their talent musically, especially guitarist Steve Kimock. He’d just played with The Other Ones and was doing double duty these two days, so one has to at least give him credit for his work ethic. 

They at least had some good acts opening for them for these two days. The first day, Will Bernard was there with his “4-Tet” and I’d been getting to know Will’s music over the past couple years, he having played recently with The Funky Meters at The Fillmore, and at the Hall a few times already with that band, as well as with T.J. Kirk. Following him was the “Greyboy All-Star Sidecar” which as the name suggests was an offshoot of the Greyboy band. That incarnation would eventually morph into Karl Denson’s Tiny Universe. They had actually just finished the film score to “Zero Effect” with Bill Pullman and Ben Stiller which had just come out that January. The second day was a particular honor since none other than Mr. Noel Redding, the bass player for the Jimi Hendrix Experience opened. Noel had recently met a fellow named Keith Dion, a musician and producer from San Francisco, at a plaque dedication by the English Heritage Society in London at one of Jimi’s old residences. They got to talking, quickly hit it off, formed the “3:05 AM” band and started touring. Keith would play guitar in the band as well as serve as their manager and musical director.

They had played Mick’s Lounge that Friday and did a set, appropriately enough, at the Haight Street fair that Sunday. Little did I know that they would eventually take the recording we made of their set that night and use it on a live album called “The West Coast Experience”. It was released in 2001, but I wouldn’t even be aware of its existence until a couple years ago, finding it and buying it online. Noel would use recordings from that tour including stuff from the aforementioned Haight Street Fair, and gigs at The House Of Blues in L.A., The Transmission Theater, and 14 Below. But like Zero’s live albums, I have no idea which songs were taken from our show and predictably Pete and I got neither credit or one thin dime from Noel. Still, it was an honor and he dusted off a couple of Jimi’s standards like “Stone Free” and “Hey Joe”. I’m just glad I got to see Noel at all before he would pass away five years later from liver cirrhosis at the all too young age of 57. But with recording ex-Band Of Gypsies drummer Buddy Miles at the Hall the year before, I can now say I have two Hendrix alumni under my belt.

I didn’t keep recordings personally of either days, but I was able to find a bootleg of the second day on line. Zero were their usual selves and Martin, the sax player did his customary wise cracks between songs.  After they played “Berm”, Martin declared, “You have just entered… the Zero Zone”. A couple songs later when the audience was conspicuously quiet between songs, he joked that “this is the time you’re supposed to talk to each other. Y’all gone all quiet. The bullshit light is on now”.  They actually did a pretty respectful cover of Dylan’s “Like A Rolling Stone” and as I mentioned in the previous entry, Kimock would play “Lovelight” as he did with The Other Ones two days earlier.

When they came back for the encore, Martin ribbed his fellow bandmates, telling them, “Get a grip!… Get real… Get a horse… Get a horn”, then looked down at his sax, laughed and said, “Oh yeah”. After these shows, we actually did take a break from recording Zero at Hall including two shows they did that December and the first of two shows they did the following April. It only was the the promise that the second April show was going to be the last show they’d ever play which compelled me to do that one, but it turned out to be a lie and Zero went on to play for years until Martin died in 2008. On a happier note, the first episode of “Sex In The City” debuted that weekend, which is about as far from hippiedom as a person can get.

Kraftwerk, War., SF, Sun., June 7, 1998

SETLIST : Numbers, Computer World, Home Computer, The Man-Machine, Tour De France, Autobahn, The Model, Airwaves, Tango, Sellafield, Radioactivity, Trans-Europe Express, Pocket Calculator, The Robots, (encore), Tribal Gathering, Music Non Stop

I and the other ushers knew this was an important show, even if we weren’t too familiar with Kraftwerk. For starters, it was their first tour of the U.S. since 1981, a staggering 17 years for their fans out here to wait. Secondly, the closer the show came to be, the more I started to appreciate the influence the group had on not only electronic dance music, but genres across the board. I found that Kraftwerk struck a chord with rock, hip hop, and jazz people alike. In fact, one of the most distinct memories I had from this show was spotting David Boyce, the saxophonist of the acid jazz band The Braun Fellinis, walking past me in the aisle I was working. I would have never pegged him for a Kraftwerk fan, but then again, I never thought I’d be one either. After this show, I was a convert. 

I did know at least one of their songs, “Tour De France”, likely their most popular one. I feel a tinge of embarrassment having been familiar with it from my breakdancing days of my youth, or rather my feeble attempts to breakdance. It was featured in the classic 80’s breakdancing movie, “Breakin’”, way back in 1984, where one of the head dancers, Boogaloo Shrimp, did a bit doing smooth wavy dancing with a broom in an alley. Anyway, what I didn’t realize was just how long Kraftwerk had been around. They were indeed pioneers in their field, practically inventing electronic music as they went along, starting way back in 1969 in Dusseldorf, Germany. I had taken a four years of German in high school and been to Germany a couple times, so I knew at least that their name translated to “power plant”. Other than that, the only other reference I could think of was the episode from “The Simpsons” where Bart and his grandfather recovered artworks stolen by the Nazis, but had to give them back to the decedent of the original owner, a rude Baron, who complained that he was in a hurry to get “to Dance Centrum in Stuttgart in time to see Kraftwerk”. He then sped away in his sports car mocking Bart and Abe hugging on the side of the road, shouting, “Hey fun boys! Get a room!”. Incidentally, the dance music playing through the stereo in his car was a tune by DJ Keoki, who I had just recorded at the Electronica Hanukkah at the Maritime Hall the previous December. 

As a live act, Kraftwerk were a bit of an anomaly, the four members standing equidistantly apart on stage in front of small stations where their various laptops and electronic devices were, and pretty much stayed there all night. God only knows what each machine did as they performed, or if they did anything at all, but the composition of their songs were as inspiring as they were hypnotic. Like The Other Ones and Zero the previous nights were a stylistic left turn from Slayer before them, Kraftwerk was a definite departure from that organic hippie music. They didn’t talk at all between songs and in fact, only a couple songs had any lyrics at all, sang by lead vocalist Ralf Hutter through a headset mic, what I like to call a “Burger King mic”. Being electronic music, there wasn’t much differentiation between their songs performed live and their songs on their albums, but I was impressed by the video projections shown behind them. They kept me and the audience engaged with appropriately corresponding images to the songs, like numbers flashing for “Numbers” in the beginning, bicyclists for “Tour De France”, trains for “Trans-Europe Express”, and so on.

Probably one of the most memorable things that would stick in anyone’s brain from seeing them live is what happened at the end of the main set. The humans on stage departed and when the music began again the were replaced by robotic counterparts, appropriately for their song, “The Robots”. The sight of these animatronic doppelgängers, being only their top halves on posts, making their stilted movements to the music was both hilarious and unnerving. It was a pity that they didn’t get a poster that night for putting on such a spectacle, especially since it had been so long since they had been in our country. I am glad to say that I didn’t have to wait 17 years to see them again, but I did have to wait for almost 6, though when they did come back, they did two back to back shows, identical to this one, also at The Warfield. Furthermore, when they came back for those shows, they used the song  “Numbers” for a live double album released a year later called, “Minimum-Maximum”. 

Alice @ 97.3 Birthday Party: Paula Cole, Garrison Starr, Noelle Hampton, The Beth Lesick Ordeal, War., SF, Thur., June 11, 1998

The so called “Alice” radio station had been exchanging owners and changing formats for years as commercial radio stations do, but they had settled two years before this show to do modern rock stuff, leaning towards female artists and the line up at this show certainly reflected that. Why they called themselves “Alice” is still unknown to me, but from a marketing standpoint, I can at least appreciate that it made them easier to remember. Originally, the band Train was supposed to be on the bill, second to last, but for some reason they didn’t make it, (thank the fuck Christ). We dodged a bullet on that one. The less said about that band the better. This left us with an impressive line up of female artists for the night, headlined by Paula Cole. This show was being billed as Alice’s 2nd birthday, so I assumed that it marked the second year since their rebranding. The ushers were a little short staffed, so they asked me to help clear aisles all night, but it wasn’t hard and I got paid for it which is always helpful.

The first act on was actually the only person on the bill that I’d seen before, Beth Lesick. Beth was still pretty young, only a couple years older than me, but had already made a name for herself around the bay area as a spoken word artist, poet, and author. I’d seen her at a couple open mics around town including at a bar in the Mission called the Chameleon where my brother’s buddy, Bucky Sinister, hosted the open mic there every Monday. I never forgot one of her poems called “Monkey Girl”, where she went off about being born in the Chinese zodiac year of the monkey and how she couldn’t be with a “rat boy”. I tried not to take it personally, I having been born the year of the rat myself. I thought she was clever and beautiful, but was disappointed to learn later that she swung the other way. Not that I had a chance in hell with scoring with her. I was just an admirer and I’m happy for whoever woman was lucky enough to win her heart. 

Though she had performed her poetry at musical festival side stages like Lollapalooza, here she had just expanded her repertoire into the musical arena with her new band, the Beth Lisick Ordeal. They were really good, jamming out tunes as she belted out her spoken word pieces. This would be the only time I’d see her with her band and sadly, she was only allowed enough time to do a few songs, but I liked what I heard. Beth would go on to continue her career, publishing several books and even did some acting, including recently starring in an independent film called “39 1/2”, directed by Kara Herald, a woman I had worked with at Tech Services at S.F. State as well as the stagehands union for a few years.

Next up was Noelle Hampton, a local artist from Mill Valley who also was a talented spoken word artist. With her band, she managed to beat out about 500 other artists that year in a contest from Alice to secure a spot on the second stage of the Lilith Fair tour that year. Her band had a vibraphone player which is highly unusual for most bands, though coincidentally I had just seen Charlie Hunter two times in row within a couple days with hid band Pound For Pound and they had one. Following her was Garrison Starr who had a very powerful voice and I was as impressed as the crowd. She got a lot of applause. She had been signed to Geffen Records and had just released her debut album, “18 Over Me”, the year before, and had a hit single called “Superhero” which she of course played at the end of her set. Garrison also was on the bill at the Lilith Fair as Noelle and Paula Cole were, though they were on different legs of the tour, so I didn’t see them again when I saw that festival at the Shoreline two weeks later.

Finally, there was Paula Cole. She had risen to stardom quickly during those years, first singing along side Peter Gabriel, replacing Sinead O’Connor on his tour in 1993-1994. She then went on to release her album, “This Fire”, which not only won her fame and fortune with her hit single, “Where Have All The Cowboys Gone?”, but most assuredly a boat load of money in residuals when her song, “I Don’t Want To Wait” was used for the theme song to the hit TV show “Dawson’s Creek”. To top it all off, she received a Grammy for Best New Artist that year to boot. Like the Lilith Fair, there was no waiting for the Men’s bathrooms and and there would be a handful of impatient, intrepid, and/or urgently have to go young ladies who would dare skip the line to the Women’s bathroom to try their luck with us icky boys. Obviously, it’s not fair and I don’t blame those who do so in the slightest. Like most radio multi act line ups, Paula’s set was a short one and this would be the only time I’d see her perform live. But like Kraftwerk, who played the very same venue a few days before, her work would be immortalized by “The Simpsons” in an episode aired seven years later when Apu sang, “Where Have All The Cowboys Gone?” at karaoke night at Bart’s school. Unlike the Kraftwerk show, they at least gave away a poster at the end of the night.

Cornershop, Los Amigos Invisibles, War., SF, Sat., June 13, 1998

SETLIST : Sleep On The Left Side, Wog, Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown), Brimful Of Asha, We’re In Yr Corner, Butter The Soul, Chocolat, Good Shit, 6 AM Jullandar Shere

I was seeing Cornershop a lot back then, three times within a span of only seven months, but I wasn’t sick of their music. Despite my repeated complaints about frontman Tjinder Singh’s frumpy stage presence, I loved their music and was glad to see them once again, this time headlining The Warfield. This show, however, Tjinder’s bad mood would be understandable since there was hardly anybody there to see them play. Seriously, this had to be one of the poorest sold shows I’d ever see at The Warfield, maybe 300 or 350 at the most. I was actually a little surprised that the show wasn’t cancelled or at least moved to a smaller venue. Perhaps they thought they’d get a big walk up being a Saturday night, but no such luck. Probably one of the reasons why it didn’t sell was specifically that they had played San Francisco so recently. Still, considering the new found success of their last album, “When I Was Born For The 7th Time” as well as the popular Fatboy Slim remix of their hit single, “Brimful Of Asha”, one would have thought they’d have fared better with their numbers.

The fact that there were so few people to speak of that night made ushering so easy, we hardly had to bother. To tell someone to move out of an aisle at that point would have been ridiculous to the point of being Kafkaesque. Having the break from duty helped me enjoy the opening act, a very lively bunch from Venezuela called Los Amigos Invisibles. It is a rare occasion that I would see any musical act from South America, but like Los Fabulosos Cadillacs from Argentina who I’d just seen play The Fillmore a couple months before this night, they would probably be the only act I’d ever see from their native country either. And also like the Cadillacs, they were a big band and a whole lot of fun. Actually, I thought they would have been a better headliner than Cornershop. They certainly were a lot cheerier. The Amigos had just released their new album, “The New Sound Of The Venezuelan Gozandera” that year and they rocked the house with their funky, latin disco sounds. These guys were funny too. The singer, Julio Briceno AKA “Chulius”, cracked me up when he yelled out for the crowd to buy their CDs to “help us with our visas” and to “buy new girlfriends!” This would be the only time I’d see them, but they continued to have an illustrious career, getting several Grammy nominations and winning one a couple years later for Best Alternative Latin Album.

When Cornershop came on, I couldn’t help but wonder, “are we really doing this?” Crowd or no crowd, the show must go on. Still, there were a couple interesting tidbits that happened at this show that didn’t happen at the previous ones I saw. Before they went into “Wog”, their second song of the set, there was a bit made by a disembodied computerized voice saying, “This is an announcement. Put your hands in the air. Waive them from side to side like you just don’t care.” Well, nobody did care and they didn’t do it. I did appreciate that they did sing their cover of The Beatles’ “Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown)” sung entirely in Hindi, a song I hadn’t heard them perform live before this. They did longer versions of their instrumental songs, “Chocolat” and “Butter The Soul”, showcasing some cool DJ scratching on the latter. Funny thing on my recording, I decided to take a load off after cashing in my drink tickets for beer after I was cut from ushering and went upstairs to the balcony. I kept the tape rolling as I went up and I said into the mic, “This is me going up the stairs”. At a steady pace, I could make it from the floor to the balcony in around 30 seconds, but totally could do it in about 10 or fifteen if I went at full speed. I wouldn’t do it unless I really had to though. Don’t want to give security any suspicions. At a show this slow, those guys were bored to tears and would have loved some action.

The lasting and I mean LASTING memory of this show was the final song of the night, predictably the epic “6 AM Jullandar Shere”. This was a long song to begin with, but at this gig, it was positively interminable. With the drum solo, it clocked in a little over 22 minutes, but it felt like 22 hours. Sung entirely in Punjabi, near the end Tjinder repeated the line, “Teri Aasis Chaunde”, translating to “your forgiveness is wanted”, again and again and again, probably two to three times longer than he usually repeated it. Even the most diehard Cornershop fan there there was probably not in the mood to grant him forgiveness for putting them through that endless barrage. When it finally did end, there was hardly a smattering of applause and they simply walked off stage and there was no encore, leaving us all with that “what just happened?” feeling. Thankfully, when Cornershop came back four years later to play The Fillmore, there was a full house and they were in a better mood.

Kenny Wayne Shepherd, Todd Snider & The Nervous Wrecks, Uma, War., SF, Sun., June 14, 1998

This would be quite a livelier show than the near empty Cornershop show at The Warfield that played the night before this. Blues guitar hero Kenny Wayne Shepherd would pack the house with a rowdy crowd of hard drinking party people. Kenny had just turned 20 years old when he played this show, a full six years younger than I was at the time. In fact, his birthday was just two days before, that Friday. He had already made a name for himself as a blues boy wonder, despite being self taught and not even able to read music. He’d just released his second album, “Trouble Is…” the previous October, recorded a The Plant just across the bay in Sausalito. It was such a hit, that it still holds the record for the longest running album on the Billboard Blues Charts, not to mention it went gold that year, platinum the next, and chalked up his first Grammy nomination.

There were two opening acts that night, starting with Uma. I don’t remember much from them, but I did learn that they originally wanted to be called Kiss, but as you probably know, that name was taken, so they settled for naming themselves after the Hindu mother goddess. Second on the bill was singer-songwriter Todd Snider and his backing band The Nervous Wrecks. He came on, introduced by the Booker T & The MG’s immortal instrumental song, “Green Onions” and went right into a cover of the Grateful Dead’’s “I Need A Miracle”. They were in a celebratory mood that evening, it being the last show they were doing with them on the tour and Todd even joked with the crowd asking them to “clap like they were The Beatles! Is that too much to ask!?!” They shredded on their set, particularly their guitarist Ken Shackleford.

Not to be outdone, Kenny shredded too and then some. He had already been on the road, playing night and night out for almost a year and a half, but his chops certainly reflected that. He spent part of that stretch as an opening act for Van Halen. It was mind boggling how this kid could play. He had a well rounded band too. I liked that his keyboardist did a little bit of Ray Manzarek’s riffs from The Doors’ “Riders On The Storm” during their cover of Stevie Wonder’s “Superstitious” near the end of the show. But for the finale, what better person for a blues guitarist to cover than Jimi Hendrix. They did a rousing rendition of his “Voodoo Chile”, mixing in a few bars of “Purple Haze” in the middle of it. Unfortunately, my tape deck started running out of juice during his set and it sped up the songs for the middle of the show, but I replaced the batteries in time to catch those last few numbers. 

I would have to wait nearly a decade to see him play The Warfield once more in 2007. By then he’d have just married Mel Gibson’s daughter Hannah the year before. And like his future father in law, Kenny would find himself eventually in hot water for allegations of racism. Apparently, Kenny had a replica car of the General Lee from the TV show, “The Dukes Of Hazzard” and though I liked the show when I was a kid, having a crush on Daisy Duke like most boys did back then, the show didn’t age well culturally. In fact, the Blues Foundation would rescind his 2021 nomination for Best Blues/Rock Artist at their Blues Music Awards over that car. He since apologized and painted over the Confederate Flag on the roof and put the offending Dodge Charger into storage.

The Jesus & Mary Chain, Sixteen Deluxe, Fill., SF, Mon., June 15, 1998

SETLIST : Degenerate, Snakedriver, Cracking Up, Moe Tucker, Happy When It Rains, Teenage Lust, Stardust Remedy, Head On, I Love Rock & Roll, Sugar Ray, Dream Lover, Supertramp, I Hate Rock & Roll, Virtually Unreal, (encore), Reverence (slow version)

This weekend was shaping up to be a bit of an emotional roller coaster, going from the gloomy train wreck of a show with Cornershop, to the drunken blues revelry of Kenny Wayne Shepherd, back into the darkness with The Jesus & Mary Chain. It was a roller coaster or rather a “Rollercoaster Tour” that seemed to start me on this musical journey to begin with, having bootlegged the Chain on that tour in Amsterdam in 1992, by very first bootleg. They would also have the distinction of being another first for me, being the first headliner I ever ushered for, when they played The Warfield later that year. Seeing those shows, plus the two times at Lollapalooza also that year and their show at The Fillmore back in 1994, would leave anyone with little doubt of my devotion to this band. It had been four years since I’d seen them, but I had no inkling that they would break up shortly after this show and I’d have to wait nearly a decade until the brothers Reid would kiss and make up.

Like I said, I had gone from one extreme to the next the previous days, but unlike Cornershop, the Chain’s melancholy and standoffish stage presence felt entirely natural. Their sound seemed to fit their demeanor. One could dismiss that Scottish people are a naturally gloomy bunch, presumably from their weather and having to be ruled by England. But like so many sibling acts, like the Beach Boys, Oasis, the Black Crowes, the Pointer Sisters, and the Everly Brothers, there would be bad blood. And behind the scenes on that tour, the relationship between the brothers, Jim and William, was steadily growing sour. Jim’s drinking was a real problem by then and tensions would come to a head three months later at a disastrous show in L.A. at the House Of Blues. William was having a falling out with guitarist Ben Laurie as well as his brother before things began, but after only 15 minutes into their set, William had enough and walked off stage, dropping out of the tour for good. Jim drunkenly knocked over his mic and the show was over, leaving the management to refund the tickets. Jim and the band would continue the tour without William, but ultimately call it quits two months later, making their show in Thessaloniki, Greece their last one. William went solo for while, having already released an EP that April from a side project of his called Lazycame. But the good news is that the brothers Reid eventually cleaned up their act, buried the hatchet, and in 2007, they would triumphantly return and I’d see them play together at The Fillmore once again.

So, internal troubles aside of which I was blissfully unaware, I was free to enjoy this night and really, it was a good show. Opening were Sixteen Deluxe, who I’d seen open for Luna at The Fillmore only nine months before this show. They were from Austin, though they had recorded their last album at Hyde Street Studios in S.F., just over the hill from where they played that night. Their bass player was Owen McMahon, previously of the Butthole Surfers, and their music actually took a little page from them, blending noisy feedback laden blues rock jams with the soothing Mazzy Star-like vocals of Carrie Clark. Sixteen Deluxe would struggle to get released from their contract with Warner Brothers and would bounce from label to label until ultimately disbanding in 2000. This would be the last time I’d see them play.

The Chain had just released a new album, “Munki”, though I never actually got around to buying it, despite having everything else they ever put out. I guess I was starting to take them for granted. But upon hearing those new songs again live, I find that they were in the ballpark of their previous efforts, even though it’s not their best work. I always liked the Chain’s later works anyway when they had a real drummer. Some bands put out their best music when they’re fighting. Speaking of live band members, they were also touring at this time with Phil King on bass. Phil had been the bass player of Lush, fellow Lollapalooza 1992 alumni, and with the suicide of their drummer, Chris Acland, in 1996, Phil was a natural fit to join the Chain, especially because of his silent demeanor and undertaker-like appearance. They did about 50-50 between new and old stuff, ending the show with a strange version of “Reverence”, starting slow, almost half speed, then speeding up in the middle, then slowing again at the end. Incidentally, I was thinking of the lyrics again while listening to this night. You know, I don’t think Jesus Christ or J.F.K. particularly wanted to die. Whatever. It’s just a song. There would be no poster for this show, but at least they got another when they returned to The Fillmore years later. 

The Dirty Three, Calexico, GAMH, SF, Tues., June 16, 1998

SETLISTS :

(CALEXICO) : Milonga Del Angel, Sanchez, Return Of The Manta Ray, The Black Light, The Ride, Point Vicente, Over Your Shoulder (Never See It Coming), The Blue, Opening Aunt Dora’s Box in 6/8, Angel Of Death, Slag, Stray, Minas De Cobre (For Better Metal)

(THE DIRTY THREE) : Last Horse On The Sand, Sea Above Sky Below, Authentic Celestial Music, Hope, 1000 Miles, Sue’s Last Ride, Deep Waters, Everything’s Fucked, Dirty Equation

I’d already seen The Dirty Three four times in less than three years, including one time headlining the Great American already, but I was not and will never be sick of seeing them. That venue was a perfect fit for them, so much so, that they would come back to play there again and again for years to come and I would be at most of them, if not all. To this date, I’ve seen The Dirty Three at the Great American six times. They were gaining more attention, having received critical acclaim for their latest album, “Ocean Songs”, released three months before this show. Though they never grew large enough to play anyplace bigger, they were respected and violinist Warren Ellis would play to larger crowds elsewhere as he continued to tour, playing with fellow Australians, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds.

But one of the shining memories of that night would be the first time I’d hear Calexico play. It is rare when an opening band makes this kind of impression on me and with ticket prices only $10, this night turned out to be quite a bargain. From Tucson, Arizona, Calexico’s sound was a perfect reflection of their name, a seamless blend of tejano Latin flavors with somber country rock. Their music was hypnotic and engaging live, literally haunting for one song, “Point Vicente”, a ghost story.  Joey Burns, the singer, before the song, said it was about a lighthouse down south near San Pedro and Palos Verdes where once a woman waited there for her sailor husband to return from sea. But during a wild rainstorm, she died, and people still see her ghost at night running around the brass rail of that lighthouse. 

At times gloomy and romantic, Calexico was the kind of music that was also good to drink to, which probably pleased the bartenders. They did an interesting cover of a singer songwriter named Rainer Ptacek, more commonly just known as Rainer, called “ Opening Aunt Dora’s Box in 6/8”. As the name literally says, the song’s time signature was in 6/8, giving it a swinging, almost Waltz-like quality. They were honoring their fellow musician from Tucson, who had just passed away from a brain tumor seven months before at the young age of 46. I’d have the pleasure to record Calexico twice at the Maritime the following year, both times opening for Pavement. Those nights I was able to record Calexico, but had to bail out early each time to leave Pavement to my partner, Pete. I had to go to a later night gig both shows to work a union gig at the Stanford Court Hotel on Nob Hill. I needed the money then, but in hindsight, it was a mistake. At least I got got to tape Calexico. There was another opening act at the Great American that night but I missed them, some band called Mirza. It’s not usual for me to miss opening acts, or maybe I caught them, recorded them, and somehow misplaced it. Never saw them again. 

But The Dirty Three were excellent as always. I can’t say for sure, but this might of been the first time I would see Warren with his beard. It certainly would be the last, he having that Karl Marx look to this day. A little off putting at first, it would be an appropriate look for him, matching his animalistic, passionate playing style. When he gets really into it, he makes me think he’s some kind of new found, insane castaway who was trapped somewhere for years being only able to play the violin. Indeed, during the beginning of the show just before playing their new song, “Sea Above, Sky Below”, he announced to the crowd that he hoped we “don’t have a job, have a home to go to. You’re never coming back from the Great American Hall with The Dirty Three!” Warren would continue his usual ramblings between songs, later declaring that “The iguanas are going to win the World Cup!” and something about armadillos and warning us to drive slowly. One distinct memory from this night, despite the numerous nights seeing them at this venue, was something that happened near the end. I think it was during “Everything’s Fucked” when Warren came down from the stage onto the dance floor to stomp around and play. We all gave him space, but I was right up directly in from of him. Eye to eye, I even remember whispering to him, “C’mon, Warren. We’re all with you, bro”. You can hear him stomping his foot a few times, coming down on the beat, and grunting, extra loud on the tape. It was a spellbinding moment, really.

King Sunny Ade & His African Beats, Maritime Hall, SF, Fri., June 19, 1998

It had actually been a couple weeks since I recorded a show at the Hall, probably the longest I had gone with out it since I first set foot in the place. This time I had the honor of taping the one and only Mr. Sunday Adeniyi himself, otherwise known as King Sunny Ade. Though he joins a long list of musical royalty such as King Diamond who had just played the Hall that April, Queen Latifah, Prince, and so on, King Ade in fact did lay claim to royal linage back in his home country of Nigeria, being part of the royal Yoruba family from the southwest area from there. He and his band sang entirely in the Yoruba language as well. His countrymen had fans the world over had given Sunny the title “King Of Juju”, the style of music he made popular, focusing on percussion. He’d been playing music since the 60s and in 1983, Sunny became the first Nigerian to be nominated for a Grammy award. His latest album at the time, “Odu”, would also be nominated for a Grammy.

I was pleasantly surprised that Pete gave me this night to tape myself. I thought surely he’d be all over this one, but maybe he was enjoying his time off as well, leaving me to run the place until he returned the following week to record two nights of The Creatures with me. I like to think it was a vote of confidence in my improving mixing abilities, but I had my hands full and probably could have used Pete’s help with this one, since the King had such a big band to mix. There were plenty of drummers and horn players along with a trio of dancing back up singers. Those ladies were beautiful and had voices of angels, making a handful of costume and headdress changes throughout the set. Their outfits as well as the clothes for the rest of the band were immaculate, very colorful stuff. Though the show wasn’t well sold, the folks who were there were enthusiastic and there was plenty of dancing going on down in the dance floor as well as the stage. I couldn’t find any of my recordings of Sunny in my stuff, but I did find footage of his set that he played at the Health & Harmony Music & Arts Festival in Sonoma on YouTube. He and the band most likely played that gig before or after the one at the Hall and I imagine the set was similar if not identical.

The Urge, Kottonmouth Kings, M.I.R.V., The Good Life, Maritime Hall, SF, Sat., June 20, 1998

I do have to declare from the outset that this show is a little bit of a mystery to me, not because of the bands who played that night, but rather for who was supposed to play instead. The monthly poster declared that the night of the 20th was to be for Soul Brains, the triumphant return of Bad Brains, a show I was ecstatically looking forward to, but The Urge took its place for some reason. I know that Soul Brains would play the Hall that November and recordings from that show would ultimately be used for their live album, but I could have sworn that I recorded Soul Brains at the Hall twice. I know I didn’t do their shows in 2000 and 2001. Those Wade recorded. Still, I do feel a teensy bit of Bermuda Triangle stuff going on here. You’d think I’d remember a thing, being of such importance to me. 

That being said, I did enjoy this show and was glad that the Hall continued to promote bands that dabbled in ska. The Urge, hailing from St. Louis had toured with fellow mid-westerners 311 back in 1996 and I caught them together at The Warfield. The Urge had just had some modest success with new album, “Master Of Styles” and their hit single, “Jump Right In” which featured 311 lead singer Nick Hexum. I would once again be recording the Kottonmouth Kings as well, they just having played the Hall the previous April for the 4/20 Benefit show. They were still new then, their first album, “Royal Highness”, to be released two months later. I was really happy that M.I.R.V. was on the bill, a delightful, goofy band I’d seen numerous times by then opening for Primus, Les Claypool, and others, and I’d be able to tape them at the Hall for once. Brian Kehoe used to crack me and the office up when he’d pop in and visit Dave Lefkowitz when I was an intern there back in ’96. M.I.R.V. had just released their “Feeding Time On Monkey Island” the year before which featured Brain on drums, who was at the time touring with Primus as their new drummer.

First on the bill that night was another band from the mid-west, from Omaha specifically, 311’s hometown, called The Good Life. It was a side project of Tim Casher, the frontman for the band Cursive. He and that band just broke up that spring, so he was hitting the road with this one, but would soon reform Cursive the following year. All played well, though it wasn’t that well sold like the King Sunny Ade show the night before. I like The Urge and appreciated that they had not one, but two trombone played in the band, and their singer, Steve Ewing, was a black man, adding much needed diversity to the all too caucasian midwest. Their sound definitely took a page from Fishbone, Sublime, and their friends in 311. Sadly, this would be the last time I’d see them. They would break up three years later, but reform and break up a few more times in the years to come. I was amused to find out that Mr. Ewing went on to open a few hot dog restaurants called “Steve’s Sausages” and “Steve’s Hot Dogs”. If I ever find myself in the St. Louis area, I might drop in for a bite.

Lilith Fair ’98: Sarah McLachlan, Natalie Merchant, Indigo Girls, Erykah Badu, Me’shell Ndgeocello, Shoreline, Mountain View, Tues., June 23

SETLISTS :

(INDIGO GIRLS) : Shame On You, Galileo, Scooter Boys (with Natalie Merchant), Diamonds & Rust (with Joan Baez), Get Out The Map, Shed Your Skin, Power Of Two, Water Is Wide (with Sarah McLachlan), Rockin’ In The Free World (with K’s Choice), Closer To Fine

(NATALIE MERCHANT) : Wonder, Life Is Sweet, Jealousy, Break Your Heart, Ophelia, Carnival, (unknown), Thick As Thieves, Kind & Generous

(SARAH MCLACHLAN) : Witness, Wait, Angel, Ice Cream, Black & White, Building A Mystery, Possession, Aida, Sweet Surrender, What’s Going On

This was the second year of the Lilith Fair, the brainchild of Canadian singer/songwriter Sarah McLachlan. Named after Adam’s first wife in Jewish mythology who after weighing the prospects of an unequal standing alongside him, decided to to leave Adam and go it alone. Sarah made a point to call it a “Fair”, so it would have multiple interpretations, being a festival, beautiful, or a step towards equality. The idea that an all female festival wouldn’t be successful in hindsight seems preposterous, especially since Sarah was riding high on the success of her album, “Surfacing” released the previous summer with it’s smash hit single, “Building A Mystery”. But rock promoters and people in the industry were at first utterly dismissive and downright cruel. Mean spirited nicknames for this festival like “Lesbopalooza”, “Breast-Fest”, “The Other Bush Tour”, and so on circulated abound. OK, “Breast-Fest” was a little funny, but come on, guys, grow up please. 

After choosing Paula Cole to be her opening act on her 1995 tour, Sarah held steadfast that an all female festival was feasible and she wasn’t alone. Joan Osborne had been thinking about such a tour herself when Sarah beat her to the punch, though Sarah brought her along as a main stage act for the first tour. Tired of hitting a wall of sexism as they found commercial and critical success, other talented female contemporaries needed little convincing to join the party. Before she knew it, Sarah had such names as Sheryl Crow, Fiona Apple, Jewel, Tracy Chapman, and dozens of others stepping up and the tour left all those industry schmucks with egg on their faces. I regret not seeing that first year, but this year’s line up was equally as impressive and the size of the crowd reflected that. The Lilith Fair went from 37 dates the first year to 57 for this one, with over 100 acts over the course of this tour. And by the time the following year was over, these three tours will have been seen by 2 million people, grossed over $52 million dollars, $10 million of which went to charities. That first tour was in fact the highest grossing festival tour of that year.

I do confess, the primary reason I went to this show was because of my sister. Erica had been a fan of Natalie Merchant for years and had turned me on recently to the music of Erykah Badu as well. It is a rare occasion when I can get her to go to a show with me and I knew full well that this was one she wouldn’t have wanted to miss. Free from the filthy masses of musclebound brutish boys that permeated other summer festivals like Lollapalooza, Ozzfest, H.O.R.D.E., and especially Limp Bizkit’s Family Values tour, Erica would be amongst a very different and welcoming environment. Female acts on those icky boy tours were few and far between, if there were any at all. Not that I was unwelcome, though I was clearly outnumbered. I would say the woman to man ratio at this show was easily 20 to 1, maybe even 25. The obvious wisecrack men would make at this show would be about that they converted several of the men’s rooms at Shoreline into women’s rooms. But I wisely kept my mouth shut about it and understood that the optics of hundreds of women having to wait in line to pee while men roamed in and out of their bathrooms leisurely would have been bad to say the least. I had seen plenty of shows that the audience held a majority of females, but nothing to this size by far. I wanted to see this, not only for the level of musical talent, but as a show of support. There were plenty of fathers bringing daughters and mothers bringing sons. I like to think the Lilith Fair amongst so many other positive and constructive things it was, helped bridge the cultural divide between the sexes, even just a little.

There was a second stage at this festival, like most summer festivals, but I kept my attention to the main stage and hanging out with Erica. I didn’t want to do my usual mad dashing between stages. That would have been rude to her. On that side stage were Noelle Hampton and The Beth Lesick Ordeal, who I’d just seen open for Paula Cole at The Warfield less than two weeks before this festival. Though Paula was already committed to her own tour, riding on the success of her hit song, “Where Have All The Cowboys Gone?”, her openers were on board. Noelle had won a spot on this tour in a competition with 500 other acts for the Alice radio station and along with Beth Lisick, K’s Choice, Billy Myers, Lhasa De Sela, Tara MacClean, and Autour De Lucie entertained people all day on that stage. Amongst the usual food and merchandise vendors, there were booths for all sorts of charities, services, and businesses like Planned Parenthood and Biore Cosmetics. 

But first up on the main stage was Me’schell Ndgeocello. As usual, I was a stickler for getting to the festival on time, but particularly because she was first up. I was impressed by her set when she played the Maritime the year before and was glad she was continuing to get recognized for her talent. The fact that she and Erykah Badu were the first two acts of the day also helped quell complaints that Sarah and the Fair the previous year lacked diversity both ethnically and stylistically. It would natural for my sister to be drawn to an artist that (almost) shared her name, but the music of Erykah Badu was indeed a force to reckoned with. Having just released her debut album, “Baduism” the previous year, Badu catapulted herself into stardom, that album quickly reaching triple platinum and chalking up a couple Grammy wins for Best R & B Album and Best Female Vocal Performance. She wasted no time releasing a live album, simply called, “Live”, that November, an unusual move for an artist with only one album under her belt. In her short set, she managed to talk quite a bit between songs, first getting a cheer telling the crowd to “give it up for Mother Earth!” She described “Baduism” as it “not being a religion. It is an experience, the way I feel, the way I light incense, light candles, using my power, building bridges, overstanding, understanding, destroying bridges” and so forth. She also did a great cover of Chaka Khan’s, “Stay”, making me think how good it would have been to have Khan on this bill as well.

Badu did another bit talking about what a cypher is, being a circle or completion, that 360 is 3 +6, which equals 9, the 9 months of life that a baby takes to be born. She told the ladies in the audience to put their hands on the womb and dedicated the next song, “Ye Yo”, which means mother in Swahili, to all the mothers out there. She wrote that song for her new baby, Seven, who she mentioned had coincidentally been born seven months before this show. Seven was the offspring between her and Outkast’s Andre 3000. And though their relationship ended the following year, Andre would immortalize their break up with the hit song, “Ms. Jackson”, a very public apology to her and Badu’s mother. Her music fit perfectly as a festival opener on a sunny day, soulful and cool. I’d have to wait another 14 years to see Badu again however when I caught her playing a New Year’s Eve show with The Coup at the Fox Theater in Oakland in 2012. I remember being super pissed for having to miss her show with the Dave Chappelle Block Party tour at The Warfield in 2006 because I was stuck working a gig at The Palace Hotel, a mere four blocks away from it. She finished her set with “Tyrone” which she described as a “song I made up on stage in London. This is grown folks’ music. Cover your kids ears up”.

The middle act of the day were the Indigo Girls, veterans of the first tour and would be for the tour the year after as well. I could see why Sarah wanted them on the bill. I just saw them play the Warfield in January and their fans adored them, especially in San Francisco. They would be an asset to the tour, bringing this collection of shy, introspective musicians together regularly backstage and on stage to collaborate with songs and socialize. And no other act had as manny guests during their set as they did, first bringing out the immortal Joan Baez to sing her song, “Diamonds & Rust”, afterward declaring, “Joan Baez is in the house! Our matriarch!” They then brought out Sarah McLachlan to sing, “Water Is Wide”, and side stage performer K’s Choice, to help them with their cover of Neil Young’s, “Rockin’ In The Free World”. Funny, I could hear Erica in between songs joining me with an abundance of food she got at the vendors that she couldn’t finish. She generously offered me the leftovers and then we smoked some herb. It was a little breezy, so we tried our best to cover up the lighter, but I nearly singed my eyebrows off lighting it.

Second to last was Ms. Merchant. Though she’d long left 10,000 Maniacs behind her years before, her star was continuing to rise then, she having just released her “Ophelia” album a month before this show, even having just performed weeks before as the musical guest on “Saturday Night Live”. The second to last act of most festivals is often considered a co-headliner and she proved herself worthy, though she would be the first one to dispel any notions of competitive backstabbing on this tour. Natalie would later describe her experience on the tour as being “utopian”, citing the camaraderie between her and the other acts and that “nobody was hiding in their trailers”. As luck would have it, she had just finished collaborating with Wilco and Billy Bragg on the “Mermaid Avenue” album of Woody Guthrie songs and I had just seen Wilco perform some of those songs for the first time at the Mountain Aire Festival just the month before, she singing lead on “Birds & Ships” and backing vocals on “Way Over Yonder In The Minor Key”. Sadly, she sang neither of those during her set. She was having fun on stage though as we were, even taking a moment to twirl around a ribbon on a stick. This would be the only time I’d see her live, but I’m glad I shared it with Erica.

Finally, Sarah wrapped the night. Like I said before, she was riding high with her success and her last album, “Surfacing”, would also get her a couple Grammys, one for Best Female Pop Vocal Performance and another for Best Pop Instrumental Performance. I’d seen her only once before when she played The Warfield in 1994 and was utterly entranced by her beautiful voice. Yes, I thought she was pretty too but she would soon marry her drummer, Ashwin Sood, while in Jamaica. Her new album would also have the dubious distinction of being mentioned in the Starr Report about the Lewinsky Scandal. Apparently, Monica noticed that Bill Clinton had her CD and whenever she listens to the fifth song, “Do What You Have To Do”, she thought of him. Sarah didn’t play that one that night, but she naturally did play the hit, “Building A Mystery”, which has the more pleasant distinction of being the first song publicly played on an iPod when Steve Jobs himself dialed it up at the iPod product launch in 2001.

Continuing her accolades, Sarah would be given the Elizabeth Cady Stanton Visionary Award and appointed the following year to be an Officer of the Order Of Canada. The Lilith Fair would become a cultural milestone and a moment in musical history that would never be forgotten to all those who were involved and attended. As further, though more sinister, evidence of the tour’s impact on society, a month later there was even a bomb threat phoned in for their show in Atlanta because of the tour’s support for pro-choice causes. There was no bomb and the show went off as planned thankfully. I was a little surprised to learn that this tour was initially only for three years, especially because of its commercial success. But after 1999, Sarah gave birth to a couple daughters and one could imagine the urge to take a break from it all and to spend time with them would be understandable. Sarah tried however to revive the Lilith Fair in 2010, but it unfortunately had poor ticket sales and having a bunch of acts dropping out for fear of not being paid, the tour was cancelled after only 23 shows. The tour did play in Irvine, but nowhere in the bay area. But that bad news aside, this was a perfect day and Sarah was gracious, thanking all the bands and crews, praising all the amazing women who performed that day. They finished the evening bringing up most of the main stage artists to sing a blissful rendition of Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On”.

The Creatures with John Cale, Maritime Hall, SF, Thurs., June 25, 1998

The Creatures with John Cale, Maritime Hall, SF, Fri., June 26, 1998

SETLIST : Lament, Riverbank, Fear Is A Man’s Best Friend, You’re A Ghost, Hedda Gabler, But Not Them, Tattoo, Take Mine, Pluto Drive, Miss The Girl, Westward Ho, So Much For The Evidence, All Fall Down, Magazines, Leaving It Up To You, Disconnected, Turn It On, Prettiest Thing, Beside Ourselves, Exterminating Angel, (encore), Thumb, Murdering Mouth, (encore), Think Like A Gun, (encore), Venus In Furs, (encore), Pablo Picasso

As big as a fan that I was of Siouxsie & The Banshees, I was utterly unaware of the side project Siouxsie and her husband Budgie, the drummer, had with The Creatures. So, I wasn’t entirely upset that Pete would be recording this pair of shows, especially since none other than the Velvet Underground’s John Cale would be opening. This was important and they deserved to have the best taping them and Pete hadn’t taped a show at the Hall for three weeks, so I took it as a sign to take a break. I would be lucky enough to tape them myself anyway when The Creatures returned to play the Hall on Halloween the following year. Siouxie and Budgie had parted ways with the other Banshees shortly after I saw them do back to back shows at The Warfield in 1995. They hadn’t toured together as The Creatures in almost a decade and had recently started collaborating with John Cale who helped produce the Banshee’s last album, “The Rapture”, and after playing a festival with him in Amsterdam. Speaking of festivals, I had just finished seeing the Lilith Fair at Shoreline a couple days before this and was reminded that Budgie actually played drums for the Indigo Girls briefly when they toured with a band. I thought actually that The Creatures would have been an interesting choice to play that festival, certainly a stylistic left turn. 

John Cale wasn’t so much an opener since he played with The Creatures’ band backing him up for five songs before Siouxsie joined them on stage and kept the set going. I’d seen John once before with the Red House Painters at The Fillmore and though I found his voice grating, I appreciated his music, especially his contribution to the Velvet Underground, clearly an influence on Siouxsie and all others in the Goth genre. I only kept the recording of the second night, but as far as I can recall, the sets were practically identical. They did a few covers that second night for sure, including the Banshee’s song, “Tattoo”, and the Velvet Underground’s “Venus In Furs” for one of their encores. John busted out his screechy violin for that one and it was ironic that Siouxsie would wail about “Severin”, an in joke referencing the Banshee’s bass player, Steve Severin.

Other than that, it was all Creatures songs. Siouxsie even joked with the crowd saying, “we’re only testing you tonight. It’s all new stuff. No comfort here, I’m afraid. You have to sit on that spike and like it!” She told us to “expect the unexpected” and they weren’t there promoting anything because they weren’t signed. That wouldn’t be for long, since they in essence signed themselves the following year, creating their won record label and put out “Anima Animus”. They did play a few songs that would eventually be on that album, such as “Disconnected”, “Turn It On”, Take Mine”, “Prettiest Thing”, and “Exterminating Angel”. Budgie was kept busy that night,  taking turns between his drum kit to hit a bongo drum with small mallets for “Westward Ho” and “Prettiest Thing”. Siouxsie asked the crowd if they knew anything by Samuel Beckett for the prior, but got an unsure response from them. She teased her husband when he came up to play guitar for “Beside Ourselves”, saying she was “just waiting for my husband to strap it on”, then playfully scolding for starting the wrong song saying he had the setlist form the night before. She coyly then asked him if he wanted her “to strap it on for you?”

Siouxsie played a few things on stage as well, shaking jingle bells and hitting a percussion block for “Miss The Girl” and playing a sampler on  “Exterminating Angel”. Somebody in the crowd gave her a bouquet of flowers, but she tore it open at the end of the night and passed around the flowers to the people up front. Always the fashion icon, Siouxsie wore a slinky black latex number, though she lost the top portion of it during the encores. Since summer had just begun, that outfit must have been hot to perform in. She donned a silver, sparkling cowboy hat for the encores as well. They finished the night with a hilarious cover of “Pablo Picasso” by The Modern Lovers, their fourth encore. Very seldom have I ever seen an act come back for more than three. Before they played it, a young woman got on stage and very delicately gave Siouxsie a hug. Siouxsie praised her as Little Boot, the stage manager, escorted her off, Siouxsie saying for “a stage-stormer”, she had grace.

Merl Saunders & His Rainforest Band, The Toni Brown Band, Donna Jean Godchaux, Maritime Hall, SF, Sat., June 27, 1998

Seriously, it is hard not to like Merl Saunders. There is so much to like, from his talent as a keyboard player and singer, to his taste in covers, to just his overall upbeat and friendly demeanor. But this was my seventh, count em’, seventh time I got to help record him at the Hall. And I can help but feel a little miffed to find out that he released a live compilation album that year and didn’t use a single song from the stuff we recorded with him. Whatever. I’m sure he had his reasons. Not that this night was unpleasant, it wasn’t. Pete was at the helm, his third night in a row and this was hippie music, which was his wheelhouse, so he had it well in hand and there were plenty of joints passed between us to pass the time. It had been another long month of music, ending June with 15 shows under my belt in 30 days.

This show was being billed as the 25th Anniversary Party for Relix magazine, a publication devoted to all things hippie. Donna Jean Godchaeux opened the night, debuting her new band. Though she had joined Phil Lesh with a cavalcade of stars for the Philharmonia show the previous December at the Maritime, this was being billed also as “her first west coast band appearance in over 20 years”. I’ve made it no secret that I’ve never liked Donna’s voice and hated the period of when she toured with the Dead, so I was relieved when her set was over, never to see or hear her again. Following her was the Toni Brown Band, a group led by the editor of the magazine and I presume other members of Relix. She is often confused with the Toni Brown who was the singer of the veteran bay area hippie band, Joy Of Cooking. Merl played well as always, surely dusting off a Dead cover or two for the occasion. He’d return and play one final time later that year at the Hall for New Year’s Eve.

Curve, The Dandy Warhols, DJ? Acucrack, Maritime Hall, SF, Thur., July 2, 1998

SETLISTS :

(DANDY WARHOLS) : Be-In, Ride, Nothin’ To Do, (Tony, This Song Is Called) Lou Weed, I Love You, (unknown), Minnisoter, Genius, Every Day Should Be A Holiday, Hard On For Jesus, Boys Better

(CURVE) : One The Wheel, Coming Up Roses, Forgotten Sanity, Something Familiar, Alligators, Getting Up, Sweetback, Horror Head, Beyond Reach, Chinese Burn, Dirty High, (encore), Unreadable Communication, Recovery, Turkey Crossing, Die Like A Dog, Ten Little Girls

I was overjoyed to hear that these two great bands, two of my favorites really, were playing together and coming to the Maritime. I’d just seen Curve only three months before this show headlining at Slim’s and the Dandy’s also at Slim’s the previous December. They were on the top of their games and I was looking forward to having a professional live recording of each in my growing resume. But my hopes were dashed when I arrived for soundcheck and learned that they brought their own monitor board, so the recording room couldn’t get a hook up. Still, I was glad to at least have the night off to see the show and I still got a recording from my own tape deck, for what it was worth. On my way back in after retrieving my tape deck from home, I actually ran into Toni and Dean from Curve walking down from Rincon Hill. Toni noticed I had a cup of Starbuck’s coffee and asked where she could score one and I pointed them in the right direction. Like most American cities, they could of thrown a rock in this town and probably hit one.

They had a DJ duo from Chicago called DJ? Acucrack open the show. Why they had a question mark after the DJ or where the name Acucrack comes from is anyone’s guess. The show wasn’t that well sold, maybe a little less than half, but that was fine by me. It made it easier to get around, enjoy myself, and avoid people talking over my taping. This would be the only time I’d see the Dandy’s as an opening band, actually, but they played great as always. They didn’t perform “Not If You Were The Last Junkie On Earth” that night, which was unusual, since they always had before since the second album came out. They did however played “(This Song Is Called) Lou Weed”, the singer Courtney noting that they hadn’t played it “in fucking ever”. I thought it was ironic since fellow Velvet Underground member, John Cale, had just finished played two nights at the Hall with The Creatures. Maybe that’s one of the reasons why the Dandy’s dusted off that old song. He also mumbled something later between songs that he thought he was playing The Fillmore that night, which probably made the members of the Hall a little uneasy. Hopefully, Boots didn’t overhear that. It was great to see Curve and listen to their new songs once again so soon after their Slim’s show, but little did I realize that this would be the last time I’d see them live. I suppose I was taking them for granted at the time. There were rumors of a Curve reunion in 2017, but it never materialized. Thankfully, the Dandy’s would come back to play The Fillmore, (for real this time), a year and half later and they are still together touring and making albums to this day. Finally, the Hall had a new poster out for the month of July and it turned out to become one of my favorites.

Far, The Gandharvas, Zebrahead, Born Naked, Maritime Hall, SF, Fri., July 3, 1998

As time went on, I grew to realize that the Maritime was the place to play for the newly emerging “screamo” rock bands of the era. We’d have guys like Sevendust and Papa Roach frequenting several times, but other acts like A.F.I., My Chemical Romance, and Fallout Boy would ultimately take the sound to larger crowds. This show wasn’t put on the books at the Hall early enough to make it to the monthly poster and it turned out to be really poorly sold. When the boys from Born Naked first got on stage, you could probably count the people on the dance floor with both hands. By this time as well, any people I could scare up to do cameras for the videos at the Hall had at least one encounter with Boots and his antagonism and never returned, leaving the video shoot of every show to be a single wide shot of the stage. It would remain this way until Boots finally got the message and installed the robotic camera system that went online in January the next year. Furthermore, my partner Pete was getting fed up with Boots and with my modest recording skills intact, he left me to do most of the recording for the rest of the month. Pete wouldn’t return to do a gig until Baaba Maal in August and his work at the Hall would become more and more infrequent until his final falling out with Boots in November of 1999.

This would be the final time I’d record Born Naked at the Hall, but they sounded good as ever. Listening to them one final time from the tape of the night, I’ve come to appreciate Sal and his singing voice, a sort of blend of Chris Cornell and Mike Patton. That’s hard to do, especially when playing guitar. I’d see them one more time headlining a locals only show at the Fillmore in 2001, but I’ve seen hide nor hair of them since, or even their manager and my former flatmate Patrick. Second up was a band called Zebrahead from Orange Country. They had just released their first self titled album, already signed to Columbia. Like 311, they had a guitarist who sang and a fellow along side him that rapped. The rapper was funny and energetic, an Iranian-American named Ali Tabatabee. They would come back to headline their own show at the Hall a year later, though their turnout was about as low as this gig. I don’t remember the Gandharvas, but they had an interesting name. A Gandharva is a celestial being in Hindu or Buddhist mythology who have magical musical skills, the males being divine singers and the females being divine dancers. Some of them are part animal, often part bird or horse. Far, the headliner of the night, I had seen before opening for Helmet at Slim’s back in 1996 and thought they had some talent. Still, I thought it was a tall order for them, especially since they were so new to fill the place. Coincidentally, they had a song called “Seasick” which The Jesus Lizard had a song of their own with the same title and I’d see them play back to back shows right after this one and they would play their “Seasick” on both of those shows. Far would split up shortly after this show in 1999, but they’d have a reunion ten years later.

The Jesus Lizard, Firewater, Bottom Of The Hill, SF, Sun., July 5, 1998

SETLIST : Sea Sick, Postcoital Glow, Glamorous, Gladiator, I Can Learn, Nub, Eucalyptus, Puss, Killer McHann, Boilermaker, Soft Damage, The Associate, Happy Snakes, Cold Water, Then Comes Dudley, (encore) Mouth Breather, Horse Doctor Man, Wheelchair Epidemic, Until It Stopped To Die, (unknown), Monkey Trick

The Jesus Lizard, Firewater, Herbert, Palookaville, Santa Cruz, Tues., July 7, 1998

SETLIST : Sea Sick, Puss, I Can Learn, Gladiator, Killer McHann, Horse Doctor Man, Thumbscrews, Eucalyptus, Bloody Mary, Boilermaker, A Tale Of Two Women, More Beautiful Than Barbie, Glamorous, Cold Water, Then Comes Dudley, (encore), Mouth Breather, Now Then, And Then The Rain, (unknown), Monkey Trick

It had been over two years since I saw the divine abomination that is The Jesus Lizard and I had exhausted every record shop in town finding everything I could of theirs. This would also be the first time I’d see them as a headliner, they last playing as an opener for two days with Ministry at The Warfield and as one of the early acts on the main stage at Lollapalooza at both Cal Expo and Shoreline in 1995. So, not only would I be seeing one of their own shows, but I’d be seeing them up close and personal, much, much closer being Bottom Of The Hill. I was frankly surprised that they’d be playing a venue so small considering the exposure they’d been getting and being signed to Capitol Records, their new album, “Blue”, having been just released that April. That, and the show was only $10, though I had to pay a $2.25 service fee, was still a bargain, even at 1998 prices.

This would be the beginning of the end for the Lizard, at least for a while. Their original summer, Mac McNeilly, had quit the band shortly after the tour with Ministry to spend more time wife and two kids and was replaced by Jim Kimball. I liked Jim, a worthy, hard hitting drummer who swung his arms above his lowered head like a hyperactive spider monkey, but he would quit after only a couple years, leaving just a month after these shows. Jim would be replaced by Brendan Murphy, the drummer for Wesley Willis, another, shall we say, eccentric frontman like the Lizard’s David Yow. But he too would go by the wayside when the Lizard finally called in quits the next March, playing their final show in Umea, Sweden. It would be over a decade until they would emerge once more and I’d see them return to headline at The Fillmore. As usual, I and the crowd were blissfully unaware of the goings on with the band and enjoyed the show.

Opening both gigs were Firewater, the new band from Tod Ashley, or Tod A. as he was otherwise known, the former frontman of Cop Shoot Cop, who I’d seen once before at the Great American Music Hall. Firewater was an interesting stylistic departure from his old industrial punk band, dabbling in all sorts of styles, ranging from tango, to jazz, to gypsy folk music. I fell in love with their song, “Another Perfect Catastrophe”, a brilliant and unforgettable tune and bought their latest album, “The Ponzi Scheme” shortly after these shows. Tod got the crowd at Bottom Of The Hill worked up with a rowdy gospel blues number called “Knock Em’ Down”, getting the crowd to chant “Do You Believe!?!”. Afterwards, he gave props to the Lizard saying, “David and his performing monkeys will be out to entertain you. Fun for young and old alike!”

David Yow wasted no time and started crowd floating immediately for their first song, “Seasick”. Coincidentally, I’d just recorded the band Far at the Maritime a couple days before this show and they too have a song of their own with the same title. David did his usual amounts of wisecracks, saying “I’d like to dedicate this next song… but I’m not gonna…” before they played “Nub”. He thanked the crowd, saying it was “so nice not to have those motherfuckin’ children around again. Now we’re hangin’ out with the grown ups.”, Bottom Of The Hill being always a 21 and over venue. Before they played “Eucalyptus” he pointed out a a bald friend in the back with glasses and his sound person, saying, “She kicks ass and swallows. And there’s Todd and Jeff and some other fags…” Drunk as always, David encouraged the crowd shouting, “It’s July 5th! Drinkety-drink-drink!!!”, before they went into “Boilermaker”. 

Later, he asked the audience, “Is my hair OK? Do you think I have a nice body? I’m 63 years old! Wanna see my cock?” At the time, David was only 37 but he just turned 60 last year. He laughed and asked us to “please scream a whole lot louder because it gives me a hard on!” They finished their set with “Then Comes Dudley” before returning to the stage, where David declared “we planned a few songs for you, all of which one or maybe three of them really kick ass!” They played a long encore, playing six songs. I had previously thought David made the “What do you do if your girlfriend is stumbling around in the backyard all day?… Shoot her again” joke at Lollapalooza, but it actually was this show. Hi-larious.

Two days later, my friend Tory and I hopped in my car and made the trek down south the Santa Cruz to see them play at Palookaville, This would be the only time I’d see a show at this venue, or even go down to Santa Cruz specifically to see a band. Boots at the Maritime had been doing the booking at Palookaville and I in fact had put up The Jesus Lizard’s name on a suggestion page near Boots’ office door, one of the first names to go up. I remember even putting a dark square around that name so it would stand out. The Lizard never got to play the Maritime, but I wondered if my suggestion helped them land the Palookaville gig. Coincidentally, the Lizard had also just put out their self titled EP, the only album they’d released without a single word title, that was co-produced by John Cale on the Velvet Undergound who had only just played two back to back nights at the Hall with The Creatures a couple days before these shows. With our Maritime laminates, Tory and I had no trouble getting into the venue. The staff there were very friendly people. I ran into David Yow during the opening act’s soundcheck, it being early, he wasn’t drunk yet and I said hello. I reminded him of the time I ran into him two years before at The Warfield during soundcheck and I was wearing my cap and gown from graduating from collage that very day and approached him for an autograph. He signed it, “You know what, Nick? You gradu-fuckin’-ated!” It took him a moment, but the memory came back to him and we had a friendly little chuckle about it. 

There was a second opening act that night before Firewater, a band called Herbert. They were more of a straight rock & roll band with a singer who sounded English. I liked them, but they were having some sort of trouble on stage with their gear. The poor singer was periodically being electrocuted from presumably a short in her mic cable and was afraid to touch her mic stand during their whole set. Firewater had a tougher time getting the crowd’s attention on this show, taunting the distracted crowd asking, “Are we boring you?” and “Somebody napping or something?” The Jesus Lizard did mince words when they got on stage though, David immediately pointing to the folks upstairs, saying “You old people in the balcony! This is your chance to come down here! What the fuck!?!? You don’t have any friends!?!” I was used to seeing Mr. Yow drunk, but at this show, he was positively wasted. Somebody said something about the late G.G. Allen between songs and he immediately snapped, “Fuck you, G.G. Allen! Son of a bitch! I’m glad he’s dead!!!” G.G., a “performer” shall we say, infamous for defecating on stage and basically ingesting as much substances as he could get his hands on, had died of an accidental, though entirely predictable, drug overdose five years earlier at the age of 36.

David continued his shirtless insanity and crowd floating, keeping me on my toes, having to have one hand free to support him in case his diminutive, sweaty body would float by while I held the mic with my other hand. He shouted “I dedicate this motherfuckin’ song to everybody in the motherfuckin’ room!” before launching into “Thumbscrews” Considering the lyrics of that song about torturing his landlord, I couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy of his intentions. He lashed out at a young man who had gotten on stage, trying to say something in his mic, and punched him square in the mouth, sending the interloper back into the crowd, shouting “Don’t fucking touch it! Put it down! I hate everyone of you motherfuckers!… Except for him… and that girl who sucked my ass earlier tonight”. I can still hear the dull thud of his fist landing that punch in my memory to this day.

He quickly forgot about the bum rush guy and was back to making wisecracks, congratulating a young woman in the crowd, joking “Hey, today’s Anna’s 15th birthday! Security, throw her the fuck out!”. I was lucky that they mixed up the set lists from this and the Bottom Of The Hill show to hear most of the new songs between the two days, as well as hearing a couple I hadn’t heard before live like “More Beautiful Than Barbie”. He introduced “Mouth Breather”, the first song of the long encores at both shows, at this one, saying, “This is a song we wrote sitting around one day thinking about astrophysics”. Another crowd floater got up on stage and honest to God, threw up a little. David taunted him, for some reason yelling, “Pow wow! Pow wow!” The band finished up the encore with “Monkey Trick” as they had done at the Bottom Of The Hill show. I’ll say it once, I’ll say it a million times, I’m always amazed that the rest of the band stays so focused as David goes on with his shenanigans, especially since their songs are so musically complicated. Maybe since the crowd’s attention is so drawn to his outlandish behavior, it actually helps them center themselves on their music. 

Like I said before, I would have to wait over a decade to see this insane spectacle again, but the lads from the Lizard would find other projects in the interim. David would go onto join another band called Qui, which I would have the pleasure of seeing twice, once at Cafe Du Nord in 2007 and again at Annie’s Social Club in 2008. His antics at one of his shows in Pittsburgh, between the times I saw him, would get him a punctured lung, but he was all healed up by the time I saw him for the second time. He would continue his love of gourmet cooking, spend time with his cats, and even do some work as a graphic designer as well. Guitarist Duane Denison would join Mike Patton with his side project Tomahawk in 2001 and tour with Tool, which I regret not seeing them play when they came around to perform at the Oakland Coliseum that year. I think I was out of town for that one. I would however get to see him perform in 2007 when he was touring with Ministry bassist Paul Barker in their band U.S.S.A. They played to only a handful of people at the 12 Galaxies club in the Mission, the only time they toured as far as I know. 

David Wm. Sims, the bass player of The Jesus Lizard, would also pursue other musical side projects and I was tickled to hear that he also would become a Certified Public Accountant. I suppose such work would be a welcome relief from the unpredictable, frantic life performing in the Lizard. It was a thrilling and memorable couple of shows and I still have my long sleeve shirt I bought from their merchandise guy. It had on the front the distorted face of a man in a suit with a crew cut holding up a glass of milk saying above the picture, “Thirsty?”, and on each of the sleeves, one reading, “Eat”, the other reading, Drink” and on the back simply, “The Jesus Lizard”. Besides that, all I have is the ticket stub from the Bottom Of The Hill show, the tapes, and these joyful, yet disturbing memories. 

The JGB Band, Juggling Suns, Maritime Hall, SF,  Fri., July 10, 1998

Pete had left me this one, a hippie show, Jerry’s old band. I suppose he figured nothing would come from this recording since there had been umpteen zillion live ones of Jerry when he was alive anyway, but I took it in stride. It was good practice and Melvin Seals was a hell of a keyboard player. By this time, Jackie LaBranch had left the band leaving Gloria Jones and Melvin as the only original members of the group when Jerry was still pickin’. Gloria had a young lady along side her whose name escaped me, but she also had a nice voice and filled in admirably. Stu Allen was on guitar and would go on to do several other hippie projects, becoming a regular at Phil Lesh’s Terrapin Station venue up in San Rafael. Melvin also brought in his cousin Elgin Seals to play bass. Like Melvin, he had considerable musical talent and also did work playing bass for The Four Tops, another nostalgia act with an ever shrinking roster of original members. Didn’t get a set list for this one, nor for the opening act, the Juggling Suns, but I’m glad I did the show all the same since this would be the last time I’d see Melvin and the JGB Band play live. Obviously, it was never the same without Jerry, but I wish them all well.

Gal Costa, Vivendo De Peo, Maritime Hall, SF, Tues., July 14, 1998

Once again, the Hall would be the host for a rare performer from South America, this time from Brazil. The singer in question would be Mrs. Maria Da Graca Costa Penna Burgos, (whew!), otherwise known as Gal Costa. Strange that this show was billed on the monthly poster as “2B1 Eye For Talent Presents”, a moniker never used before and to my knowledge never again. God only knows what that was about. It was Bastille Day, the day before my 26th birthday and I was once again left alone to record this show. Unfortunately, Gal Costa didn’t want us to tape that night, so after the opening act, Vivendo De Pao, which translates literally to “living off bread” in Portuguese, a colloquial term for just getting by financially, had finished, I was done. So, I had it pretty easy. It still was a pity that we couldn’t record Gal Costa. She had an incredible voice. Though she was only 53 years old at the time, she had already been making albums since she was 19, having 25 studios ones under her belt as well as 4 live ones. She is a member of a short list of virtuosos such as Gilberto Gil and Catano Veloso who founded the “tropicalia” genre in her native country. Her new album, “Aquele Frevo Axe” had just been released that year and all the Brazilian ex-pats came out of the woodwork to see her. Gal was well known among world music and jazz people, often playing at the Montreux Jazz Festival. 

The thing I remember most about this show was indeed her voice. In fact, before I turned off all the gear down in the recording room, the front of house engineer, Jack Shaw had come down to listen a little with me. It was unusual for Jack to socialize with me at all. He tended to look down on me and my lackluster audio skills and honestly, he was right to do so. Jack was clearly very talented, even if he was a bit of a wise guy. But strangely enough, Jack was suspicious of Gal being a drag queen or transgender or something. We put her vocals on solo and listened closely to her pitch perfect delivery. I admit, Gal looked a bit mannish and her voice was a touch husky, but like I said before, she was middle aged by then. Upon further research, I can confirm that Gal Costa is indeed biologically female. As for Jack, I always wondered if he was gay. He kind of put off that vibe and often would play the song “Junebug” by the B-52’s during sound checks. Who knows…

Front 242, Project Pitchfork, Maritime Hall, SF, Thurs., July 23, 1998

Front 242, Project Pitchfork, Kevorkian Death Cycle, Maritime Hall, SF, Fri., July 24, 1998

SETLIST : (same both days) Happiness, Masterhit, Motion, Moldavia, Melt, Soul Manager, No Shuffle, In Rhythmus Bleiben, Crapage, Body To Body, Religion, Headhunter, Welcome To Paradise, (encore), First In/First Out, Punish Your Machine

It had been five years since Front 242 toured with Lollapalooza and though they didn’t have a new album to speak of, they had remixed some of their songs and I was overjoyed to see that they were coming to play not one, but two days at the Hall. It had been a weird stretch at the Maritime for the past week before this since not one, not two, but three shows were cancelled, Venom, Israel Vibration, and Iron Maiden, all shows I would have loved to work, especially the last one. Furthermore, Sonia Dada got postponed until the first of August. Why all this happened, I can’t say, maybe bad ticket sales. I don’t remember, but at least I got a week off of shows and had some time off for my birthday. Speaking of my birthday, that weekend, Tsar Nicholas II of whom I was named after was laid to rest finally with his family in Russia in a proper funeral, 80 years after they were gunned down and buried in secret in the woods. Talk about a postponement…

Anyway, I was disappointed that we once again couldn’t raise anybody to do video camera work for either of these nights. I was hoping against hope that Front 242 would like our stuff and release it someday. But unluckily for me, they had just released a live album recorded earlier in this tour called “Re-Boot : Live ’98” featuring the exact same set they played both nights at the Hall. That album actually came out that Tuesday. Still, I can’t blame them for wanting a live recording made in their home country of Belgium, taking live songs from shows they did in Brussels at the beginning of their tour the previous September and later from their show in Marke that April. To make matters worse, the opening act, Project Pitchfork from Hamburg, Germany flat out refused to be recorded at all, so they were out. There was at least a second opening act on the Friday show, Kevorkian Death Cycle from Riverside, who I was able to tape. They were nice about it and would play the Hall again that Halloween opening for Frontline Assembly.

Like I said, we didn’t have a camera crew, leaving me to set up the wide shot of the stage up in the balcony. When I was doing it on the first day, none other than Front 242’s Richard Jonckheere, otherwise known as Richard23 or RichardJK, kind of gave me the third degree, wondering who I was and what I was doing. Nervous at first, I bluntly told him about the video projections on the immense screens on the sides of the walls and he was cool about it, even apologetic a little. I felt bad for my abrupt knee jerk reaction to his question and apologized myself, blubbering to him about how much I loved his band and I felt relieved that I broke the ice with him. They played great as usual and though most of their music was doled out by a single guy behind keyboards, they at least had a real drummer backing them up again. 

The fog machines and strobe lights were in overdrive both nights. Richard did his frantic, goofy dancing, dressed in his usual tack-vest and fingerless gloves while the other singer, Jen-Luc De Meyer, growled away beneath his sunglasses wearing a striped sweater that makes him look a little like Charlie Brown. Charlie was a melancholy cartoon character, so I imagine he’d of liked their music. The new remixed versions of songs like “Religion” and “Crapage” were definitely easier to dance to, but I still like the original versions better. Despite it all, I was glad to catch these shows, especially since I wouldn’t see Front 242 perform live again until 2017, nearly twenty years later, when they came to town to play at The Mezzanine. I almost didn’t make it to that one either, barely getting there in time after running to that venue after working up on Nob Hill at a union gig at the Mark Hopkins Hotel. I already had to miss AC/DC playing at the ballpark that night, so catching Front 242 again was a blessing.

Morbid Angel, Incantation, Nile, Infestation, Maritime Hall, SF, Sat., July 25, 1998

SETLIST : (unknown), Bil Ur-Sag, World Of Shit (The Promised Land), Nothing Is Not, Rapture, Lord Of All Fevers & Plague, Day Of Suffering, Prayer Of Hatred, Covenant Of Death, Invocation Of The Continual One, Blood On My Hands, Heaving Earth, (encore) Hellspawn : The Rebirth, Chapel Of Ghouls

Morbid Angel is one of those bands, like Deicide and Cannibal Corpse, where I take a moment, look up to God and say, “Hey… These guys don’t necessarily represent me. Don’t send me to Hell or nothing for this. I’m just doing my job.” Yes, Morbid Angel, the bombastic death metal band from Tampa who had been rattling out teeth fillings since 1983 were there along with three other heavy, HEAVY acts, all with impressive heads of hair. Morbid Angel had just released their new album, “Formulas Fatal To The Flesh”, deliberately using three words starting with the sixth letter of the alphabet. You get the idea. This was their first album with their new singer and bassist, Steve Tucker, who had replaced Dave “Evil D” Vincent. Dave would come back in 2004, then leave again and Steve would take over again in 2015. I would see Dave soon enough when he’d play at the Hall a year later with his wife, Jennifer “Gen” Zimmerman and her band, The Genitorturers. They were a whole other kind of disturbing. I’ll get to them eventually. 

We had both Incantation and Infestation that night opening. Metal bands notoriously use single word names that end with “tion”. Nile from Greenville, South Carolina was there too and they were a little more prog rock than the others, definitely taking on the mystical Egyptian angle. They were still pretty new back then. Both Nile and Incantation were signed to Relapse Records and as luck would have it both released their new albums on the same day that April. Nile’s album was actually their debut and I loved the title, “Amongst The Catacombs Of Nephren-Ka”, a reference to a story called “The Outsider” by H.P. Lovecraft. Yep, this was dark music to say the least, but I love the death metal crowd, nice people one and all, really. These guys were always on time to their sound checks and their drummers took care of their gear with immaculate care.

Like Front 242 who had played the Hall for the last two days before this show, the fog machine was getting a lot of use that night. Morbid Angel had also set up fans on stage to blow their member’s manes of hair majestically all through the show. I loved the way Steve would introduce the songs with his Cookie Monster voice saying stuff like, “You people are fucking sick! We salute you all! For the strong, this is the dawning of a new era! For the weak, this is the DAY… OF… SUFFERING!!!!” He did another one, growling, “Some pray for money! Some pray for greed! Some pray to false gods! This is a PRAYER… OF… HATRED!!!” and “This goes out to all sickness! This is LORD… OF… ALL… FEVERS… AND… PLAGUE!!!” Apart from their blasphemous lyrics, he would also do some parts of their songs singing in Sumerian. During “Covenant Of Death”, he belted out, “Zamanu Muh Lal-Li Zi-Pa-Gurud-Zuneme-E”, translating to, “Hostile ones, you soon shall reap what you earned”.

Listening to their set again, I thought my mix was pretty even, but when they returned in 1999, again with Nile opening, I was saddened to hear that they thought it was too bass heavy. I’m sure Steve Tucker wasn’t complaining. Having done so much reggae at the Hall, I tended, like Pete, to favor the kick and bass. They never used any of our stuff, unfortunately, but Morbid Angel had put out a live album in 1996 already anyway called “Entangled In Chaos”. Maybe they were just a little jittery about playing the new tunes with the new singer. They were also touring with Erik Rutan on guitar, he taking a break from his band Hate Eternal. Erik would go on to play with a number of other heavy bands including joining Cannibal Corpse just this year. We had just set up a wide shot for the video that night as usual, but somebody in the crowd did manage to get in a video camera of their own and you can find the set they played that night on YouTube in all its chaotic glory. 

Ol’ Dirty Bastard, Mystic Journeymen, The Earthlings, Maritime Hall, SF, Sun., July 26, 1998

The Wu-Tang Clan had made a name for themselves long before this show, but I believe that Dirty was the first of their members that I would see perform live. He more than any of his brethren had hogged all the attention in the media, especially that year, with his, shall we say, eccentric behavior. For starters, Dirty made headlines that February for bum rushing the stage at the Grammies interrupting of all people Shawn Colvin getting her award for Song Of The Year. Really, “Sunny Come Home” is not a song one would at first associate with Dirty or rap music in general. Anyway, he was pissed that Puff Daddy had won the Grammy for Best Rap Album earlier and felt he had to protest that Wu Tang didn’t get it since they were, “doing it for the children”. OK…

Then, Dirty’s luck took a turn for the worse less than a month before this show when he suffered a gunshot wound in the back and arm during a robbery at his girlfriend’s house. He tried to grab a gun from one of the two ski masked assailants when it went off. The perps got away with some jewelry and a diamond studded bracelet, leaving Dirty to get patched up at the hospital. Always on the move, he couldn’t stay still even after being shot, and walked out of the hospital against doctor’s orders after only 9 hours, driving home in his van. Only days later, he was arrested for shoplifting a pair of $50 shoes in Virginia Beach, despite having over $500 in cash on him at the time. His frugal nature was already infamous from a recent piece he did with MTV where he went with his family in a limousine to pick up food stamps. All the while, Dirty was changing his stage name over and over again, recently trying on “Big Baby Jesus” on for size.

So, his reputation preceded him, but like most rap shows at the Hall, this one was sold out and rowdy. Little Boots, the stage manager and son of the Hall’s owner, took advantage of the captive audience to open with his band, The Earthlings. I’ve said it before, but I will at least give him and his crew credit for their steady improvement as the years passed, but as soon as the Hall folded in 2001, The Earthlings basically did too. Also opening were east bay hip hop mainstays, the Mystik Journeymen. The show was sponsored by radio station KSJS and the Journeymen made a particular point to dis on KMEL for not spinning their records, saying, “for all you out there who hate country! 106 ain’t down with the real hip hop!” The crowd was packed up front, to the point where one of their members said he felt sorry for all the people getting crushed. For one of their songs, they had the lighting guys turn off the all the lights and one of them lit up the crowd with a pair of spotlights attached to a hat. As they finished they made sure to get one last dis in, getting everybody to scream, “Fuck commercial radio!!!”

I didn’t save Dirty’s set to listen to, but like most hip hop sets, I remember it was a short one. He certainly covered his hit song, “Shimmy Shimmy Ya”, reminding everybody of how he “likes it raw”. Yes, Dirty was not shy about as Dr. Evil so eloquently phrased it, his “penchant for buggery” and declared so publicly many times, even when not asked about it. His other big hit, “Got Your Money”, wouldn’t be released until the following year, so I don’t recall if it was played that night. Kelis, who did the chorus for that famous song, would play the Hall the following year though. Dirty had also a reputation for being a drug fiend though, and sadly he would die from an accidental drug overdose six years later at the age of 35, only three years older than me, making this the only time I would see him perform live. I would see and record a few other members of the Wu Tang Clan such as Method Man and GZA, and I would finally see the Clan altogether when they played The Fillmore in 2002, but Dirty was in jail then, having skipped out on a court mandated drug rehab stint. Clearly, the treatment was seriously in need, but alas, Big Baby Jesus had to eventually be recalled home to heaven. 

Sonia Dada, Maritime Hall, SF, Fri., August 1, 1998

For some mysterious reason, Sonia Dada’s show was postponed a couple weeks along with a string of cancellations in July at The Hall. I think Boots, the owner needed to take time off around then to oversee his wife Kathy’s experimental treatment for cancer in Germany, but I can’t remember if that was the reason for these cancellations and Sonia Dada’s postponement. Sadly, Kathy would succumb to her illness eventually, but Boots did everything he could to help her stay alive. As tyrannical as Boots was, we all knew he loved Kathy very much and God help her, she loved him too. I miss Kathy. She was a sweet woman and was always kind to me. There were rumors of some kind of pollution up in Marin County causing her and a string of others’ abnormal rates of cancer, but I don’t recall if anything was proven. Kathy was always a vegetarian and never drank, smoked, or did drugs. It’s not fair to say the least.

That sad story aside, Sonia Dada was an interesting show. It was one of those rare gigs where the band had brought their own engineer down to our recording room to mix their set. I wasn’t familiar with them in the slightest and he was a nice enough guy, so I didn’t put up a fuss over it. It probably was a fellow named Scott Steiner, who was their official engineer, but he might have been on front of house duty. They never released anything recorded that night, though they would go on to release a live album the following year called “Lay Down & Love It Live”. Dada had just put out their third album, “My Secret Life”, that June and they typified the Chicago Soul sound, good drinking music. Like many soul acts, they were also a band evenly populated by black and white people. They were founded by Daniel Pritzker, their guitarist, who unknown to me and probably most people was actually a billionaire. He was heir to the Pritzker family fortune. The Pritzer’s initially made their money as lawyers, but eventually established the Hyatt hotel chain, and diversified their empire from lumber to railroads to cruise lines. His cousin, J.B., is actually the current governor of Illinois. I suppose a band has to have money to tour with their own recording engineer to begin with. 

Between his philanthropic work, Daniel toured with this band and to his credit was a talented guitarist and songwriter. He actually bought Jerry Garcia’s famous “Wolf” guitar in 2002 for $790,000, but donated it to charity in 2017 for a whopping $1.9 Million. I suppose after having it around for 15 years, he didn’t really need it anymore. It for charity anyway. Good for him. His fortune surely allowed him to get the pick of the litter of Chicago musicians and Sonia Dada reflected that, especially the singers, though he discovered three of them, Michael Scott, Paris Delane, and Sam Hogan, busking in a Chicago subway. Another singer, Shawn Christopher, had just joined the band, she having spent years singing back up for Chaka Khan in the 80’s. Strangely enough, she also spent a few years singing for none other than the freaky industrial band My Life With The Thrill Kill Kult along side cult icon Lydia Lunch. As luck would have it, the Kult would play the hall only a month later, though without her and Lydia. Still, small world, huh? Sonia Dada would have modest success with their songs, “Lover (You Don’t Treat Me No Good)” and “You Ain’t Thinking (About Me)”, which naturally they played that night, but this would be the only time I’d see them live.

Mercyful Fate, Mr. Sinister, Old Grandad, The Council, Maritime Hall, SF, Sun., August 3, 1998

It had only been since April since I had my first and unforgettable audience with King Diamond at the Maritime and he was already back again, this time with his old band, Mercyful Fate. Formed way back in 1981, they had broken up and reformed twice already by this time and were touring with their latest album, “Dead Again”. Original guitarist Michael Denner had been recently replaced by another Mike, Mike Wead from Sweden. Wead would continue to tour with Kind Diamond for years to come. Hank Shermann, the other original guitarist was there and in fact had made surprise cameo to King Diamond’s show at the Hall, helping him play the Mercyful Fate song, “Come To The Sabbath” for his encore, which they played that night as well. This gig was being sponsored by radio station KFJC, who were also sponsoring the Baaba Maal show the following weekend. One could hardly come up with two more different bands in style and appearance, but good for KFJC for having eclectic taste, and good taste at that.

There had been a show at the Hall the night before with Blink 182, but knowing in advance that we weren’t being allowed to record, resigned me accepting that I had the night off. In hindsight, I should have shown up just to watch the show, but back then I had no idea who they were and was working so much that I actually wanted a night to rest. I would see them soon enough at The Warfield in 2001 and elsewhere in the future. Boots had made a first time joint effort with the production company Goldenvoice to put it on. I suppose they both considered joining forces would be mutually beneficial in their competition with BGP, who were still in flux structurally after the death of Bill Graham. Live 105 and Miller beer were there too promoting it. But back to the show at hand.

I can’t remember much about The Council, but I did recall liking local act Old Grandad immensely and made a point to see them again, once on New Year’s Eve in 2004 at a very small club in the Outer Mission called Sadie’s. They were a very, heavy-heavy metal group, much in the vein of Sabbath, Fu Manchu, or The Melvins, sludgy and dark as can be. I can’t recall Mr. Sinister either, though I do know that they are named after a Marvel super-villain who occasionally tussled with the X-Men. I’m sure they’re gone the way of the Dodo now, but there now is a different hair metal band with the same name out of Omaha, Nebraska that formed in 2011.

Though I didn’t save the recording of Mercyful Fate, I did enjoy the show and appreciated the fact that they walked on stage to one of the bits from the soundtrack of “The Omen”. I think it was from the part where David Warner got his head cut off, but it might of been the bit from “The Omen II” where that guy got crushed between train cars. Either way, it was creepy and thus perfectly appropriate for the evening. Like last April, the King once again donned his top hat and ghoulish make up, singing his unmistakable siren song of Satan through his bone cross microphone thingy. Likewise, there was again no shortage of devil hand sings elevated on high in the crowd and swinging full heads of long hair on stage from King’s fellow bandmates. Though this would be the only time I’d see Mercyful Fate perform, I would have the pleasure of seeing the King a few more times in the years to come.

Baaba Maal, Zaoli West African Drum & Dance, Telefunken, Maritime Hall, SF, Sat., August 8, 1998

I’ll never forget this show for a number of reasons, but for one in particular, which happened to be totally unrelated to Baaba Maal. I knew that Pete was going to be recording that night, so I took up an invitation from my friend Matt Riggs to see a movie under the influence of LSD early on in the day. What possessed me to do this for a screening of “Saving Private Ryan”, I can’t really say. Call it a lapse in judgement. It had just been released in the theaters two weeks before and I had seen it once already, so at least I would have been caught in there unawares of the horrific violence it contained, especially during the opening scene at the invasion of Omaha Beach. If I was to be punished for such a weird and disturbing thing to do, it came early when I met Matt before we went into the theater and he informed me that he changed his mind and decided not to dose for the movie. I had already dropped mine and was well on my way. At least I had Matt as my wingman.

Contrary to what you might imagine, I wasn’t scarred for life. In my experience, watching movies on LSD isn’t that strange. I tend to forget about it actually, becoming totally immersed in the film experience. Part of me was a little like Lance in “Apocalypse Now” when he was on acid and was watching the nighttime fighting at the scene at the bridge around the middle act of that movie. The most disorientating part of seeing a movie on LSD is actually when the movie ends and the lights come on again. Still, like anyone who has seen that war film on a big screen, upon leaving the AMC theater on Van Ness, I sort of had to regain my composure, mentally and physically. I mean, I wasn’t tripping balls by the time I left Matt and made my way downtown and up Rincon Hill to the Maritime, but I was still feeling it to be sure.

When I got to the recording studio, I did my best to act normally and concentrate on the task at hand. I labeled the tapes as always and helped Pete patch things in, but I was uncharacteristically quiet and I could tell Pete was wondering what was up with me a bit. When I thought we had everything well in hand, I confessed to Pete what I had done and he laughed about it. He knew something was up and laughed, “Wow… Nick is triiiiiiping…” By the time the show started, it pretty much had worn off and I had a couple beers to calm my nerves. I actually had seen Baaba once before in 1995 at The Fillmore, so I knew what I was in for and knowing it would be a fun and uplifting show, also helped me come down. Don’t remember much about Telefunken, named after the German radio and television company, but I as well as the crowd were impressed by the Zaoli dancers and drummers.

Baaba was a star in his home country of Senegal, but was continuing to make a name for himself in America and the rest of international stage. He had just released the “Nomad Soul” album, co-produced by Brian Eno that year as well as another album called “Djam Leeli : The Adventures”. Also, he had contributed a song called “Bess, You Is My Woman Now” to the “Red Hot + Rhapsody : The Gershwin Groove” album, raising money for AIDS research and awareness. Senegal and all of West Africa had been horrifically decimated by the AIDS virus in the 90’s, so one can appreciate his intention to help in the effort. As always, I had hoped Baaba would release some of the stuff we recorded at the Maritime, but as luck would have it, he had just recorded a live album in London called “Live At The Royal Festival Hall”. Strangely enough, KFJC, the radio station helping promote this show, also sponsored the Mercyful Fate show the week before, a musical experience different on a number of levels.

As he did when I saw him three years before at The Fillmore, Baaba brought along a band of virtuosos with him. Along with a drummer, guitar, bass, keys, and a couple horn players, he had a handful of guys with various percussion instruments, including one up on the front corner of the stage surrounded by an array of at least 7 or 8 congas on stands. They opened the show with one of them rhythmically hitting a simple beat with a stick on stage and Baaba joined him wearing a cymbal shaped straw hat, clapping along, then accompanying him with his hand drum, followed by the rest of the band. Once everybody was in playing, altogether, these guys were very tight, brilliant, and energetic. Baaba and his percussion playing back up singers all wore colorful traditional African clothes and danced skillfully throughout the set. These guys had their moves down cold, acrobatically jumping and prancing about with their lean, lanky bodies under their flowing robes, all while smiling widely. I was particularly blown away once again by the intense sound and power of Baaba’s voice. 

He sang in a language called Pulaar, native to the Podor region where he was born and raised, but he did ask the crowd in English about a half hour into the set, “San Francisco! Do you feel alright!?!” Of course, they responded in the positive. He also introduced on stage between songs the legendary Jamaican guitarist and songwriter, Ernest Ranglin, who joined him and a few members for a couple acoustic songs. Pete knew about Ernest, having played with well, basically every reggae and ska artist ever, but I hadn’t heard of him before that night, though I had obliviously heard his work with others plenty. Soon be floored by his masterful skills picking his wide body guitar. During the second song Ernest played with him, Baaba put a Fez-like hat on his head during one of his guitar solos. 

After Ernest left, Baaba sat in a chair in the center of the front of the stage and had his back up guys sit indian style on the floor, two each beside him, like he was telling a story to the village. The song picked up and then they all got up eventually and continued dancing as they sang. After, he did a bit of call and response with one of his drummers, singing a line and the drummer replicating it, before the rest of the band joined in full swing. The revelry would continue for nearly two hours in total, ending the night with the encore, a song about Dakar, the capitol of Senegal.  Though this would be the last time I’d see Baaba perform live, but his voice would be immortalized worldwide twenty years later in Ludwig Goransson’s score for the seminal comic book film, “Black Panther”.

Shonen Knife, Michael Shelley, Maritime Hall, SF, Sun., August 14, 1998

SETLIST : Konnichiwa, Banana Chips, Flying Jelly Bean Attack, Lazybone, Catch Your Bus, Cookie Day, Riding The Rocket, Ice Cream City, Gyoza, Sushi Bar, Daydream Believer, Twist Barbie, Frogphobia, Antonio Baka Guy, One Week, (encore), Kappa Ex., Bear Up Bison, (encore), E.S.P.

Years before K-Pop swept the nation and the world, J-Pop was having its time in the sun and Shonen Knife were one of the bands leading the movement. It was a long time coming since they’d been playing since 1981, but most Americans like myself would eventually hear about them first from Nirvana’s love affair with their music ten years later. Kurt and and the gang fell under their ultra-cute spell and took them on their tour of the U.K. They would teach Kurt how to play “Twist Barbie”, a song he’d play at secret shows and Dave Grohl even helped them set up their drums on that tour. I’d first see them in person in 1994 on the side stage at Lollapalooza, but this time they were playing the Hall and I had the honor of recording them. I do remember being miffed at Beavis & Butthead for their not-so-kind review of their video, “Tomato Head”, one of the few times I didn’t agree with them, other than their cruel criticism of King Diamond, who coincidentally had just played the Hall with his band old Mercyful Fate eleven days before this show.

Opening that night was New York City singer-songwriter, Michael Shelley, who recently had members of Belle & Sebastian collaborate with him on his latest album, “Too Many Movies”. This would be the last tour bassist and founding member Michie Nakatani would be on with Shonen Knife, she leaving the band the following year. The band was arguably at the height of their popularity in America at the time, touring with their latest album, “Happy Hour”, and recently contributing a cover of “Top Of The World” by The Carpenters for the recent film remake of “The Parent Trap”. The show at the Maritime was probably about half sold, but the crowd was twice as enthusiastic as any, more than making up for it. I know it sounds like a wise crack, but Japanese shows always seem less sold because their bodies are smaller, (Sumo wrestlers notwithstanding), same goes for kids shows. Seriously, as an usher, I know, you can fit more small people on the dance floor. Obviously, the opposite is true for overfed older crowds like blues people and hippies.

The audience erupted in applause as they took the stage in their colorful, custom made outfits and played the appropriately titled, “Konnichiwa”. Early on between songs, somebody up front in the crowd handed singer-guitarist Naoko Yamano a stuffed animal. She thanked them for the “cute present”, though was unsure if it was a “lion or monkey”. Then she asked if anybody out there about the new album, asking, “Have you listened?”. They applauded loudly and she praised them saying, “You are genius!”, and then launched into their new song, “Catch Your Bus”. The new album had all sorts of songs about food items, such as banana chips, hot chocolate, gyoza, cookies, and sushi. For the “Sushi Bar Song”, Naoko first instructed the crowd how to clap for the chorus and they did loudly, very loudly in fact and kept going to the point where she said, “You are genius! Can you stop… please?” To this day, whenever I eat a cookie, I get that “Cookie Day” chorus of “Cookie Day! Cookie Day! It’s a beautiful Cookie Day!” stuck in my head. They also did a cute cover of The Monkee’s hit song, “Daydream Believer”.

Like the members of Shonen Knife, their songs were all short and sweet, leaving their set, just under an hour long. For both of their encores, the crowd’s clapping and chanting of their name was deafening. Naoko thanked them both times with a charming, “Domo arigato”. For the second encore, she told them about their merchandise booth in the back and their new book, “Shonen Knife Land”, that included amongst pictures of them, cooking recipes, how to make their custom clothes, and an original  science fiction cartoon. She cracked us up, complaining that the books were “very, very heavy to carry from Japan” and pleaded for them to relieve her of some of the weight. I know I saw them at least one more time years later at Bottom Of The Hill, but it was after I stopped bootlegging, so I can’t say exactly when that was, probably in 2010. But they are still around to this day and are actually celebrating their 40th anniversary as a band this year.

The ONE Festival : Toots & The Maytals, Burning Spear, Long Beach Dub All Stars, Young Dubliners, The Congos, Pier 30/32, SF, Sat. August 15, 1998

The Verve, BG Civic, SF, Sat., August 15, 1998

SETLIST : Space & Time, Sonnet, This Time, On Your Own, Weeping Willow, The Drugs Don’t Work, Lucky Man, History, One Day, Velvet Morning, Come On, See You In The Next One (Have A Good Time), (encore), So Sister, Bittersweet Symphony

This was one of those rare occasions where I did two shows in a single day, the first being The One Festival out at Pier 30/32, just down the hill from the Maritime. Boots, the svengali of this operation, was expanding his horizons, or more accurately trying stop the steady bleeding of money he was experiencing at the time by throwing this wing ding. I helped Pete put together a mobile recording station in the back of a box truck and parked it next to the stage, running our mic snake to the monitor board and patching in. We had the Mackie sound board, ADATs, the works, and luckily everything was functioning normally, being a bit concerned that the ADATs would seize up from the heat. Though it wasn’t sold out, maybe around three or four thousand folks out there, and probably just broke even financially, I have to give Boots credit for pulling it off. I liked seeing shows down at that pier, it having a spectacular view of the bay and the Bay Bridge stretching beside it. I’d go on to see a few shows there in the years to come, mostly the Van’s Warped Tour. There were plenty of food and craft venders, a Sony Playstation exhibit, and a couple DJ tents to entertain the kids as well, but Pete and I had our hands too full to enjoy them.

The line up that day was an impressive, though familiar one to the Maritime folks. Both Toots & The Maytals and Burning Spear had performed twice at the Hall in 1997, and the Long Beach Dub All Stars and The Congos had performed once that year as well. The only newbies were the second act of the day, The Young Dubliners, a Celtic rock band based out of L.A. They had just released a live album of their own that February called, “Alive Alive O’”, so they wouldn’t be interested in our stuff anyway. Likewise, Burning Spear had already used a couple songs for their “A(live)” double album and The Congos would eventually put out a live album from stuff we recorded at the Hall, so Pete and my efforts that day proved to be just wishful thinking. Still, always a pleasure to hear all these guys, especially Toots. That guy could get a paralyzed person to dance again with his music. I do regret that I had to bail on Pete for the aftermath of the show, but I gave plenty at the office that day. The Verve wouldn’t wait and I had to get across town to catch them in time.

The Verve were playing at Bill Graham Civic and I high tailed it up Market Street once Toots wrapped up his set at 6, grabbed a quick bite, and made it in on time. I and assuredly everybody else at that show were disappointed to discover that the opening act, trip hop pioneers Massive Attack, weren’t there to perform. Apparently, they got fed up with The Verve’s in fighting and split during that tour to headline their own tour leaving us to hear a last minute DJ replacement open the show. Guitarist Nick McCabe had left The Verve just two months prior in Germany after getting into a fight with singer Richard Ashcroft. McCabe broke his hand slugging him in the jaw and would have to be replaced with veteran slide guitarist and session player, B.J. Cole. Being 52 years old at the time, B.J. was probably the oldest person in the house that night, well, who wasn’t a stagehand anyway. Coincidentally, he had just finished touring with John Cale from the Velvet Underground who had just played two nights with The Creatures at the Maritime that June. Though The Verve were riding at the height of the popularity with their new album, “Urban Hymns” and the smash hit 90’s anthem “Bittersweet Symphony”, they would play their last gig just two weeks later at Slane Castle in Ireland. Speaking of Ireland or rather Northern Ireland, it was a somber occasion that day after hearing news of the infamous bombing in Omagh. Thankfully, the horror of that tragedy was the impetus for the Brits and the Irish to finally say enough was enough and make peace.

Certainly the news of what had happened in Omagh had added a additional weight to the emotional stress The Verve were experiencing at the time, but their set that night was a downer for sure. I mean, like most of their shoe gazer brethren, they were a melancholy bunch to begin with, but one couldn’t help but feel like their hearts were just just not in this, especially for Ashcroft. It was quite an emotional downturn from the uplifting set from Toots I had heard only hours earlier. I’d seen The Verve headline The Warfield only nine months before and I could tell the difference in their demeanor. It was almost if they were already saying goodbye to us all. Before they came out, they played a bit of a recording of Jimmy Cliff’s “Many River To Cross” adding to the funeral like feel of the night. Still, all the songs were beautiful as always and having Cole on slide guitar added an extra wrinkle to tunes like “The Drugs Don’t Work”. Between songs, Ashcroft dedicated the earlier tunes to “the old fans, the people who’ve stuck with us from the beginning” which I took pride being one of them.

Piling on to the sadness, the last song of the set, the eerily appropriate “See You In The Next One (Have A Good Time)”, was played acoustically as was “So Sister”, the first song of the encore. At least they went out with a bit of a bang, playing an extended version of “Bittersweet Symphony”, which Ashcroft introduced as “one of the greatest songs of all time”. During the explosive guitar jam near the end, he kept shouting, “California Soul!”. But that was it. The Verve were finito. They would reunite in 2008 playing a handful of festivals, including Coachella, but this would be the last time for me. Guitarists Simon Jones and Simon Tong would go on to play with the Gorillaz and drummer Peter Salisbury would do work with the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club and Charlatans UK. Ashcroft had a respectable solo career of his own, releasing his first effort, “Alone With Everybody” a couple years later, but would never achieve the level of success he had with The Verve. Sad to see them go the way they did, but like the song says, “I know I’ll see your face again”. 

Tricky, DJ Pollywog, War., SF, Sun., August 16, 1998

It had been exactly a year to the day since I had last seen Tricky. I don’t think that has ever happened before or since. Yeah, last time he did his thing in my presence, he was on the Main Stage at the last Lollapalooza tour and now I was seeing him headline for the first time at The Warfield. Despite it being the fourth time seeing him in just three years and that I would see him quite a few more times in the future, I have always had a hard time following his music, even to this day listening to the tape again. It’s hard enough to understand anything the female singers are saying, but everything out of his mouth is practically indecipherable. Still, that doesn’t mean I don’t like him or his music, I do. Tricky is one of a kind, partially because he is mostly self taught. Bands like him, Bauhaus, who played the following two nights there, and U2 might not be the most technically proficient musicians in the world, but when you’re making it up as you go along in the beginning, you sometimes make something unique that’s actually good. He was highly prolific, and naturally got better, more sophisticated as the years passed. 

Anyway, in a strange coincidence, the night before, Tricky’s old band, Massive Attack, was supposed to perform at the Bill Graham Civic opening for The Verve, but they didn’t show up. They got fed up with The Verve’s shenanigans and bolted to headline their own tour and were replaced by some mystery DJ at the last minute. And speaking of mystery DJ’s, Tricky had renowned rave veteran DJ Pollywog spinning records before he and his band came on. She’s an easy one to spot, tall and always dressed extravagantly, not to mention a hell of a DJ. I was ushering as usual and could actually hear somebody complaining during her set, “That was my spot a little while ago!”. Tough luck for her. It was a pretty full house, the biggest crowd I would ever see for Tricky for one of his own shows.

Like I said, I still really didn’t know his songs, at least not by name, but after some research and close listening, I at least determined that they started with “Bury The Evidence”. They then did “Christiansands”, a song he recently landed on the soundtrack for the hit John Woo action film, “Face/Off” with John Travolta and Nicolas Cage.  And though I don’t recall the order or any songs in between, also played “Angels With Dirty Faces”, “Anti Histamine”, “The Moment I Feared”, “Tear Out My Eyes”, Carriage From Two”, and “Bad Dreams”. For the encore, he did “Vent”. This would be the first time I’d be seeing Tricky without his siren collaborator Martine Topley-Bird. Though they’d been together from the start and had a three year old daughter by then, things went sour and they went their separate ways. To fill in for the female parts, he now had Carmen Ejogo and Denis Ellington, who performed admirably. It wouldn’t be long until I saw Tricky again at Fillmore, returning to town just four months later. At least that show got a poster. To this day, whenever I think of him, the soundbite from the Playstation snowboarding game “SSX Tricky” whenever you score a on a complex trick, “TRICKY – TRICKY – TRICKY!” pops in my head. I miss that game. Spent a lot of hours on that one.

Bauhaus, War., SF, Mon., August 17, 1998

Bauhaus, War., SF, Tues., August 18, 1998

SETLISTS

(MONDAY) : Double Dare, In The Flat Field, A God In An Alcove, In Fear Of Fear, Hollow Hills, Terror Couple Kill Colonel, Silent Hedges, The Passion Of Lovers, Severance, Boys, The Sanity Assassin, She’s In Parties, Kick In The Eye, Telegram Sam, Ziggy Stardust, Burning From The Inside, Bela Legosi’s Dead

(TUESDAY) : Double Dare, In The Flat Field, A God In An Alcove, In Fear Of Fear, Hollow Hills, Terror Couple Kill Colonel, Silent Hedges, Severance, Boys, The Sanity Assassin, She’s In Parties, The Passion Of Lovers, Dark Entries, Telegram Sam, Ziggy Stardust, All We Ever Wanted Was Everything, Spirit, Bela Legosi’s Dead

I was still a neophyte to the Goth scene, though I was a huge fan of The Damned, but I knew that these shows were important. Most Goth people would cite Bauhaus as clearly one of the founders of the genre, if not the well spring from which it was born entirely. From their humble beginnings in London, the brothers Haskins, Kevin and David J on drums and bass respectively, formed the group with Daniel Ash on guitar. He had been attending art school at the time and was friends with vampire-to-be Peter Murphy who he convinced to leave his job at the printing factory and join them. After only five short but intense years, they split up, Peter moved to Istanbul with his Turkish wife and pursued his solo career and the others with their new band Love & Rockets. They all had modest success with their endeavors, critically and commercially. Love & Rockets would also reform again and I would have the honor of recording them at the Maritime the following March.

It had been 15 long years since they had toured together as Bauhaus and were calling it appropriately enough, the “Resurrection Tour”. This would be the end of a long stretch of shows for me 5 in 6 days, though technically it was 6, since I did two shows in one day on the 15th, but who’s counting? On a funny side note, the first night was on the same day President Clinton admitted publicly to the Monica Lewinsky affair. Though as I wrote before, Monica was a fan of Sarah McLachlan who I’d recently seen at the second Lilith Fair, I can’t say whether either her or Clinton had ever heard Bauhaus. Still, impeachment for Bill must have been a real “Kick In The Eye”. (Ba-dum-boom!) Both shows were sold out and spookily spectacular. There was no shortage of fog machines those shows, that’s for sure. Like Tricky, who played there the night before, Bauhaus pretty much made up their genre from scratch and though it might not be the most complex music in the world, it is unique stylistically and their songs likewise improved as the years progressed. I was able to find a great bootleg of the first night on YouTube. That show I had an usher badge, so I worked all night clearing aisles, but I was just a volunteer for the second night, so I was let go shortly after Bauhaus got on and was able to have a beer or two and enjoy myself. My friend Dan was there ushering with me for at least one of those nights.

The sets between days were mostly the same, though they jumbled up the order a little and switched out a few songs between them. The first day got, “Kick In The Eye” and “Burning From The Inside”, the second got “Dark Entries”, “All I Ever Wanted Was Everything”, and “Spirit”. Both nights, they did versions of T. Rex’s “Telegram Sam”, “Severance” by Dead Can Dance, and “Ziggy Stardust”, the Bowie cover that was one of the main reasons they were famous. The other was for the seminal Goth anthem, “Bela Legosi’s Dead” which they ended both nights with, extending their live rendition well over twelve minutes. I’ll never forget the nightmarish sight of Peter swaying about in the fog, swirling his black cape around, and crooning out like he was Dracula announcing loudly, “Children of the night! What music they make!”. Pity neither of these shows were on Halloween. Bauhaus would in fact play at The Fillmore on Halloween in 2005, but I saw Jello Biafra play with The Melvins at the Great American that night. Tough choice, but I know I made right one. I’m happy to report that these nights got a well deserved poster and an excellent one at that. 

I made it a habit to go up to the balcony for the encores at Warfield show to hover behind the front of house sound board, seeing what kind of gear they were using, as well as to enjoy the view. The sound is always best up there naturally and at the end of the encore, I would be in prime position to ask the sound guy for a setlist, schedule, or stage plot if they were amenable. These nights, I couldn’t help but notice they were recording, having two stacks of three ADAT machines, recording 24 tracks, 8 on each machine, seamlessly starting on stack after the other, so they wouldn’t lose any songs. This is the same set up we did at the Maritime. Unfortunately for the sound guy on the second night, he launched his second stack of ADATs and forgot to format his ADAT tapes ahead of time. ADAT tapes, you see, have a leader space at the beginning of them that have to be formatted at first for a couple minutes before, so they can sync up together, and this guy launched his second stack and had to wait at the encore for the leader to run its course, losing the first minute or so of “Bela Legosi’s Dead”. He knew his goof and I had the good sense not to point it out to him. 

I can’t say if this goof cost the shows at The Warfield the distinction of being the ones used for the “Gotham” live double album they released the following year. They used the songs from their shows at the Hammersmith Ballroom in New York City that they performed there just three weeks later. Still, the setlist was the same, they played just as well, and I have these precious, melancholy memories to sustain me during my moments of ennui. It was a good thing I caught both shows because I would have to wait until late October 2005, a full seven years later, for Bauhaus to get back together and tour again, once more playing back to back shows at The Warfield. Those nights made up for my missing them at the aforementioned Halloween show at the Fillmore they played a a couple days afterwards. But I would be lucky enough to see Peter Murphy three more times touring solo between those years and then once more at a rare small club show at Bottom Of The Hill in 2011, though I had stopped bootlegging by then. But Mr. Murphy carries on to this day and continues to inspire his legions of Goth fans. On a side note, during the season 5 premiere of “Rick & Morty” that was just aired this week, I couldn’t help that Peter bared a strong resemblance to Mr. Nimbus. I’ll let you be the judge.

Alpha Blondy & The Solar System, Boukman Eksperyans, Majek Fashek, Maritime Hall, SF, Thurs., August 21, 1998

It is a distant memory, that of seeing Alpha Blondy for the first time amongst so many other artists at the Reggae Sunsplash at the Greek in Berkeley. I can’t even say exactly what year that was, though I’m sure it was in the early 90’s, but I do remember the Ivory Coast reggae superstar making an impression, enough that I went out and bought both his “Best Of” album and the “Live Au Zenith” one. I’ve always considered the Zenith album one of the best live albums I would ever own, so I was delighted at the prospect of helping record him at the Hall, especially since he hadn’t toured in over 5 years. He took some time off apparently to hang out with his family and he would need to, having sired 7 kids with 7 different women. That would keep anyone busy. Seriously, the more I look into the reggae artists I saw back in these days, the more I’m astounded at their promiscuity, even from Bob Marley. The Wailers’ bass player, the appropriately nicknamed, Aston “Family Man” Barrett, had 41, count em’, 41 kids, and one can safely deduce that they all didn’t come from the same mother. Anyway, I digress.

But Alpha was back and touring again, having just released his new album on his own record label, “Yitzhak Rabin”, named after the Israeli leader assassinated three years prior to this show. Speaking of the promiscuous Bob again, Alpha was able to employ two of the three of Bob Marley’s original I-Three’s singers, his ex Rita Marley and Judy Mowatt, for the project, though they didn’t tour with him for this one. I was disappointed to say the least that Alpha Blondy didn’t want us to record. I came into the recording room to find Boots and Pete talking to a pleasant, young woman wearing African clothes and they broke the news to me. Impulsively, I lividly protested asking that we make sure to talk it over with Alpha’s manager, but was embarrassed to be informed that she was indeed his manager. She was gracious about it and I eventually cooled off. Actually, I was surprised Boots didn’t chew me out later from my reaction, but he didn’t and was uncharacteristically all smiles. God knows why. Maybe he was just grateful that they were there in the first place and didn’t cancel. Regardless, the show went on, we got to record the opening acts, and I had the consolation of the pleasure of going upstairs for Alpha’s set and enjoying it. 

The first opening act that night was singer/songwriter/guitarist Majek Fashek from Nigeria. Sadly, this would be the last time I’d see him, having just found out that he died a year ago in London from a battle with esophageal cancer at the age of 57. Following him was Boukman Eksperyans from Haiti, who I had seen once before at The Fillmore in 1995 opening for Baaba Maal who coincidentally had just headlined at the Maritime less than two weeks before this show. Small world, eh? Boukman Eksperyans were still in exile from their native country, fearing the military who they had criticized with their music before the fall of Aristide in 1991. Both openers were great and recording them helped ease the sting of losing my chance to record Alpha. Though I didn’t have enough time to run home and grab my own tape deck to get Alpha’s set myself, I would at least redeem the loss five years later when he returned to play in San Francisco at the Avalon Ballroom.

Brian Jonestown Massacre, Dura Delinquent, Maritime Hall, SF, Thurs., August 28, 1998

This is sort of a Bermuda Triangle kind of show, since both these bands had played the Hall the previous November. Not having the recordings handy of this time around makes me even question my memory of it happening. I have always feared something like this occurring which is why I have been so steadfast of late to get these “confessions” down pat before my grey matter finally and inevitably turns to mulch. One would think that seeing a band like BJM would stick in your mental craw, considering their frontman, Anton’s, penchant for hair brained idiocy on stage, but I can only assume that he was good behavior that night. Same goes for Dura Delinquent, who’s behavior was equally as wild, though funnier and less antagonistic than the headliner here. The show was a bargain anyway, the tickets being only $7, a steal even by 1990’s dollars. Whether of not this show actually occurred, I saw it, recorded it or not, I can say for sure that I’ve neither band since. The Maritime’s monthly poster and my personal list of shows taped there confirm that this one did happen, so I’m a little stumped. Sorry to all my readers. I want to be the most reliable narrator I can be and want to resist the temptation to, you know, just make stuff up. So, let’s move on.

Yellowman, The Congos, Maritime Hall, SF, Fri., August 29, 1998

Pete and I had already recorded Yellowman a few times at the Hall and the live album we made was in stores by the time he came to play this one, so why we recorded him again, I can’t say, but it was a good thing we recorded The Congos. Between this show and the one they did opening for The Abyssinians  the following March, the Maritime was able to release a live album from their sets in 2000, though I can’t say precisely which songs from which shows or both were used for that album. I’ve said it a million times, it frustrates me no end when live albums are released and there’s little to no information in the liner notes about the recordings. Half the time, one would be lucky just to get the year or city it was taped. So, just in case, I’m including the images from The Congos album this time. As for the show itself, I can once again report that it was a safe bet that plenty of joints were smoked between me and my partner and Pete’s mix was perfect as all his reggae mixes were. I do know for a fact that we didn’t have a video crew that night, so they were spared the nauseating task of tracking their shots of Yellowman as he would incessantly pace back and forth across the stage while he sang. Many a poor cameraman over the years had to endure the land based equivalent of sea sickness trying to stay with him. This would, however, be the final time I’d see Yellowman myself, though having seen and recorded him three times at the Hall and having the live DVD and CD of his under my belt, gives me the satisfaction, pride, and bragging rights that I maintain to this day. He turns 65 years old this year. Wherever he is, I wish him well and hope he is enjoying a well deserved sit down.

Cannibal Corpse, Angel Corpse, Sadus, Vile, Maritime Hall, SF, Sat., August 30, 1998

SETLIST : I Will Kill You, Stripped Raped & Strangled, I Cum Blood, Fucked With A Knife, Puncture Wound Massacre, Meat Hook Sodomy, Gallery Of Suicide, Perverse Suffering, Born In A Casket, Dismembered & Molested, Covered With Sores, Headless, Monolith, Staring Through The Eyes Of The Dead, Disposal Of The Body, (encore), Devoured By Vermin, A Skull Full Of Maggots, Hammer Smashed Face

It doesn’t get much more brutal than this. Yes, one needs to look no further than the titles of Cannibal Corpse’s albums and songs to get the picture. I saw these fellow freaks from Buffalo, who had the sense or non-sense to relocate to Tampa, open for The Misfits at The Fillmore back in 1996, but this time they were back, headlining their own show on tour with their sixth studio album called, “Gallery Of Suicide”. This also would be their first tour with their new guitarist Pat O’Brien, poached from the metal band Nevermore. They still had George “Corpsegrinder” Fisher singing for them, but in a strange coincidence, the former singer, Chris Barnes, had just played at the Hall less than two weeks earlier with his new band, Six Feet Under. I couldn’t do that show since I was seeing the first of two shows of Bauhaus at The Warfield that night. Since I last saw them, Cannibal Corpse had been making a bit of a name for themselves, their albums getting banned from both Australia and Germany. Both of those bans would ultimately be lifted in 2006. Also, doomed GOP presidential candidate lost the metal vote that year declaring that Cannibal Corse amongst other musical acts was undermining the national character of the United States. That might have just cost Dole Florida.

Anyway, two of the three opening acts were local, Vile from Concord, and Sadus from Antioch. Vile, even though they been around for a only a couple years, caught the attention of Cannibal Corpse, who became big fans, even wearing their T-shirts around. They would frequent the Maritime again soon, opening for fellow purveyors of the devil’s music, Deicide in November and Morbid Angel the following March. Sadus had been around considerably longer than Vile, having formed in 1985, but this was the first time I’d be seeing either of them. Speaking of Angel bands and Corpse bands for that matter, the penultimate band that night would be Angel Corpse, who like Cannibal Corpse, escaped their native Kansas City, Missouri to the greater hell hole of Tampa. It figures that these Corpses would get along and tour with each other eventually.

I learned a couple interesting tidbits about Cannibal Corpse while putting this together, first and foremost, their appearance in the Jim Carrey breakthrough comedy film, “Ace Ventura : Pet Detective”. God help me, I had seen that movie at least once, but totally forgot about their appearance in it. Apparently, Jim Carrey was a big fan of theirs and other metal acts like Napalm Death and asked for them specifically to be in his movie. At first, once they confirmed that it wasn’t a practical joke, they had to decline since they had already booked themselves for touring during the time they were to shoot. But Jim was adamant and even rescheduled the shooting of their scene to accommodate them. It was a short, but funny scene with Jim crowd floating during one of their shows while they played “Hammer Smashed Face”, pursued by bad guys who also crowd floated, but there was also a deleted scene with them where Jim actually sang with the band. Check out YouTube sometime. It’s pretty funny.

Secondly, I learned “Corpsegrinder” was the inspiration for the singer of Dethklok, Nathan Explosion, on the Adult Swim cartoon “Metalocalypse”. One needs only to watch Corpsegrinder swing his long head of hair around with that massively muscular neck of his and hear his cookie monster growl to know that they are practically twins. Finally, was the bizarre story of Pat O’Brien’s run afoul with the law recently. Two years ago, Pat broke into a house in Tampa, pushed some lady down, and hid in their backyard. When the cops came, he charged one of the deputies with a knife and was put down with a taser gun. Then it gets weird. Immediately before this, Pat had set fire to a house he was renting and when the fire was put out, the authorities found a truly impressive arsenal of weapons inside of it. For starters, he had not one but TWO flamethrowers. Now, one can understand wanting to own one flamethrower, but when you feel the need for an extra, that should be a red flag. Then for the main course, there were 50, count em’, 50 shotguns, 10 assault rifles, 2 Uzis, 20 handguns, thousands upon thousands of bullets, and for dessert… 3 human skulls. But, it being Tampa, he was given only 150 hours of community service and 5 years probation. They probably wouldn’t have been so lenient in Buffalo.

Any-who, back to the show. It was loud and rowdy as one might expect. There is a half decent video recording form the crowd on YouTube of their set. Somebody threw something on stage early on and Corpsegrinder, wearing a “Stalker Wear” T-shirt,  scolded whoever did it yelling, “Don’t be fuckin’ throwin’ shit at me! If ya’ see people throwin’, bust their ass!” There were no shortage of stage divers and Little Boot, the stage manager had his hands full trying to keep up snagging them and dragging them off into the wings with the other security guys. For the encore, the crowd chanted, “More Corpse! More Corpse! More Corpse!”. 

But the strangest event of the evening was something I actually didn’t witness unfortunately.  The folks working upstairs swear that this happened, but in the middle of Cannibal Corpse’s set, an attractive young, Asian woman emerged from the women’s bathroom and strolled onto the dance floor… stark naked. Of all the shows to do this at, this woman chose this one. Sheesh… Perhaps she had some macabre fantasy about being tackled, raped, and torn to bloody pieces by a horde of sweaty, long haired, muscle bound heshers, but they weren’t having any of it. Maybe they were just stunned in disbelief, but the security guys scooped her up pretty fast and that was the end of it. I’ve seen my share of naked folks at places like the Folsom Street Fair, but it’s sort of expected there, even kind of obligatory. Well, I can safely say that I’ve never seen or even heard of some fine lady pulling a Lady Godiva at any metal show since, or any other kind of show for that matter.