Results tagged “greenroom”

Gossip is an Olympian band that chose its name wisely: they're worth spreading, fun to know, and slightly malicious. We mean that in the best possible way. Live, the three-piece vibe raucous fury, singer Beth Ditto's righteous wail affixed like a spike to the front of guitarist Brace Paine and drummer Hannah Blilie chop shop roadster. Fast, dark, and dangerous, just like Gossip.

Image from flickr user janet_dancer

Saturday night, a cool fifty degrees downtown. Parked on Western. Climbed the stairs to the market. Crossed the street at 1st & Pike. Something special in the air -- we could feel it.

If you're still in the dark this week (and you're presumably reading this at work), well, here are some shows to keep you warm in the evening. If you've got power, take it easy and kick back with your friends and family. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone.

Monday night at the Showbox, things were just a little off. In the smokers' area outside the venue, a blond dude writhed on the ground, either having a seizure or a "seizure," we couldn't tell which. The venue's bouncers were being tough on digital SLR cameras, due to their potential use as weapons (whaaa?). Right next door at the Green Room, some guy was getting kicked out and a girl was crying. Meanwhile, inside the sold-out all-ages show, it was hot, at least a thirty-degree temperature difference between the venue and outside. Wait a minute---doesn't the Showbox have air-conditioning? Isn't that what caused their little fire earlier this month? Turn that shit on! It would've saved Seattlest from sweating like a pig.

Tuesday 8th

Daylight savings time either starts or ends on Sunday, which means that you either get or lose an hour! What are you going to do or not do with it? Here's our plans...

On Monday night, Seattlest arrived at the Showbox like we often do, a half hour early so we could sit in the Green Room, have a beer or two, and watch the under-agers patiently waiting in line outside. Our well planned arrival turned out to be somewhat premature however, as we held court with very few other grown-up types in the cozy little bar hugging the south side of the Showbox. Meanwhile, a growing line of minors in faux-punk fatigues wrapped itself around the building like a python to a rat.