I know I said I wasn't posting for awhile but the Nobunny show at Cake Shop last night was messed up and I need to talk. I missed Fostercare, but Daddy Long Legs and Apache were super cool and fun. Especially Apache, masters of the micro-genre I will call comedy garage rock. (Quote of the set: "Can we get some more beer in the mics?")
But, through no fault of Nobunny's own, his set turned weird and disturbing. And not in the awesome way that you expect. There were some technical difficulties early on with instruments and mic stands falling apart but that didn't seem to be too much of a problem. Nothing our heroes can't handle, even with the spotty vocals. I didn't care. I was there to feel the love, the laying on of grimy hands, as it were. Nobunny wasn't feeling the love, hard as he tried.
Some young dudes (and a young lady) up front had gotten pretty riled up during Apache's set and had turned the foot of the stage into a mini mosh pit. Broken glass appeared underfoot, seemingly out of nowhere. This is a bit odd for a Nobunny show, or almost any garage show really, and it was harshing what was left of the bunny's mellow. He requested that the aggro scene disperse and get a clue (my words) and this led to an immediate and significant improvement in the ratio of girls to boys happily bopping around up front. (This golden ratio is generally a major perk of garage shows vs. some other punk flavors.)
Everything seemed fine until someone launched a paper deli bag of shit onto the stage. Presumably, the perps were the banished moshers. Presumably, the feces belonged to one of them. I saw the thing sail onto the stage clipping Nobunny on the thigh, just below his slightly-too-tight briefs.
It was an attractive crowd last night, but it didn't smell pretty, so I did not at first connect the ensuing odor with the projectile. When Nobunny left the stage to dispose of the bag I still had no idea what was going on. When the horrifying reality penetrated my power-pop addled skull, it seemed the show was over, and ending on the lowest note possible. Situations like this aren't good for my misanthrotonin levels, which are dangerously high under normal circumstances, and I can only imagine how Nobunny felt about things. But he went on to finish the set with "Chuck Berry Holiday," movingly demonstrating that one monkey really don't stop no show. Even if that monkey is in fact flinging poop at you. "Nobunny loves you."
Is he coming back? I don't know. (I hope so.)
So we're all on one page when he does come back:
