Feel the sonic debris of fear and self-doubt; along with hysteria. High energy ye-ye French go-go with chamber punk pop surrealism.About this Event
Oh, clap your hands. For the day is coming. The music that you thought had been hit good with a shovel and buried behind the pricker bushes is back.
Life in a Blender Joins Forces with Sans Culottes, on Sunday, May 31, at Baker Falls (192 Allen St.) starting at 7 pm. $15 in advance/$20 at door.
Think:
• the strangled cry of the Italian-ice man
• a disembodied finger creeping across the living room rug
• gigantic bells at that convent in the Alps, summonsing you to the evening’s spanking table
• a lone dog, barking desperately to get your attention, because the boy in the well is trying to escape again
We’ve known Sans Culottes since they were pantless youths, wandering from gig to gig along the sidewalks of New York, eating a slice of pizza.
They always deliver a terrific yé-yé pop, French go-go explosion, with Serge Gainsbourg-style cabaret.
And then there is Blender:
Ken Meyer, pounding the drums, shirtless. Triple-strength He-man sweat, making his body glisten like a living sex diamond. His unbridled energy—unleashed and yet still unbridled—erupting through his drumsticks to deliver the subatomic rhythmic thunderbolt of eternal orgasm. Later in the night, when you turn to your partner in the privy of darkness, you may be sure to whisper in an ear-- "I swear I still feel a bit of that Rhythmic Thunderbolt of Eternal Orgasm!" And your partner will coo: "Ken Meyer, Ken Meyer. The hour strikes Ken Meyer!!"
Al Houghton, the debonair gadfly in the tiny stovepipe hat, effortlessly rocking us all in his cradle of RIGHTEOUS guitar licks. Standing before us in his exotic silken robes, flattening us with his massive guitar paddlings. Casting his guitar-net like an old sea crab fisherman who dredges up some of the most calcified applause from the bottom of the ocean that mankind has ever seen. But if you listen most carefully, you can literally hear the sea quietly shouting, "Al Houghton! Al Houghton!"
Mark Lerner—at first mild, but then a.... karate kick to the throat....has brought us nothing but joy. Worthless joy. It has no value whatsoever. Empty, hollow joy for us all to nip at as if we were starved wolf pups, jumping up to get a taste of something nourishing but....no....it was just joy. Unsavory, flavorless, un-nourishing joy. He spreads it like hummus. Because he is Mark Lerner, Mark Lerner. So oozing with joy--you have to say his name twice.
Dave Moody—He's not trying to fool you. He's not trying to put a muffin on your head. He's not trying to find a thimble in your butthole. He just wants to spend a quality moment with you. Be close to you. Be deep inside you. Hear your primal gruntings. Give you a little confidence with his confidence stick. That doesn't sound so unnatural, does it? That doesn't sound like something the tabloids would be interested in, does it? Because I'd like to sell it to them. It's the most interesting story ever told in the entire history of stories, and I'd like to sell it for the market price of nine dollars.
Don Rauf, how can one even think of this sinewy octopus-fighter without feeling waves of attraction. Desired by human and octopus alike, Don is encouraging us all to reach deep inside, pull everything out, and say this belongs to you now
Event Venue
Baker Falls, 192 Allen Street, New York, United States
USD 15.00
