Days of our nights

We always knew this rock 'n' roll thing was a debaucherous gig, but really, it seems like the Croc got more than its fair share of (and we mean this in pretty much every sense of the word) action this past week. First, the White Stripes show last Wednesday: "Mr. Detroit, I'd like you to meet Mr. Seattle." Those lingering in the lounge after the set were treated to the sight of Jack White being escorted into the back corner to be introduced to Eddie Vedder—about as big a showbiz moment as Seattle ever gets to witness. And the music? Well, the odds were decidedly not in the band's favor—an uncomfortably large crowd, rampant B.O., those freakin' poles—but the Stripes made it all extremely worthwhile. The new songs sounded great, but more familiar numbers—especially the ones in which Jack worked himself into a breathless frenzy, like "Hello Operator" and "When I Hear My Name"—sounded even better. The "Baby Blue" cover might have been best of all, though. By the way, we think it's really a shame drummer Meg and Jack are no longer coupled (for the last time, that sibling shtick is ALL LIES); what a pair of cutie patooties! At least the musical romance lives on. . . . Further romance-related entanglements occurred at last Friday's show (same venue) when an undisclosed member of the Pete Yorn/Ours posse sent a label rep to inquire just how to go about getting said member's underage girlfriend into the gig—perhaps by performing in some capacity onstage? DOON thought it would be far too good to be true if the guy in question was in fact poor Pete, recovering from his Winona diss in the peach-fuzzed arms of a sexy rock Lolita. . . . Our sleazy Crocodile triumvirate concludes with Saturday's Black Rebel Motorcycle Club show (and let's just say the sleaze was well offstage). Sometime before last call, the back room became host to a sloppy kissing orgy, almost entirely between a few Seattle music bizzers.

We'd give you names, but DOON would hate to start a scandal. . . . On Saturday afternoon, West Seattle's Street Fair was the place to be if you weren't interested in the Place to Be. BRMC's in-store performance at Easy Street Records was—aside from, perhaps, the fair's petting zoo—the best thing going. Spaceman 3 followers fell in line with Strokes fans, and a couple charter members of the Seattle Shoegazer Alliance rounded out the audience while the San Francisco band brought the fuzz. If you missed this free performance, keep your eyes trained on this column and our music calendar and consider the lesson learned. . . . In other takin'-it-to-the-streets news, there was outdoor music aplenty to be had that same day at the Capitol Hill Block Party. City Council member Richard Conlin's attempt to score points with the crucial 18-34 demographic went horribly awry during his introduction of Mudhoney. His declaration that "most of you probably found out about Mudhoney from the movie Singles" was met with a hearty chorus of groans and boos. Conlin then tried to recover some cred by drawing a comparison between the band's last album cover and the issue of affordable housing, but the grunge-hungry masses were having none of it. Much of the crowd—with the exception of the lovable guys who just kept yelling "Weed!"—shouted "MUDHONEY!!!" over most of his post-Singles commentary. It remains to be seen if voters this fall will "let it slide." On a related note, council member Peter Steinbrueck introduced David Bazan and co. as "Pedro and the Lions." It is hip to be square, right? Right? . . . Thanks to our boy McFarland for giving DOON the heads up on the Swearing at Motorists cancellation. Fans of this all-rock-no-schlock party band were revved up to see them open for Damien Jurado at Graceland on Wednesday, but the Ohio duo have been detained in Pennsylvania after

witnessing some serious shit—and no, it didn't have anything to do with cursing road-rage violations. According to a report by Omaha-based Tim McMahan on www.lazy-i.com, SAM frontman Dave Doughman and drummer Joseph Siwinski had to cancel the remainder of their tour—including four days of recording in Olympia—to comply with a Philadelphia court subpoena that seems to be related to a Mob case. Doughman tells the Web site writer, "I don't know why people do what they do in a crowded restaurant bar. I don't know if they think people can't see them or if they don't care. It's surreal. It freaks me out." We wish SAM a swift run on the stand and sincerely hope that nobody's talking about the Witness Protection Program. . . . In the "this sucks but we're not surprised" department, one more creative venue has fallen prey to outside buyers: Downtown hip-hop and DJ mainstay the Art Bar has been sold, and the new owners are abruptly ending Organic, the bumping Friday-night drum-and-bass weekly. Organic's two-year anniversary on July 20 will now double as a farewell blowout. Go and pay your respects. . . . So Dr. Dre and Metallica have made amends with the apparently defunct Napster. Yawn. One thing we're looking forward to: Maybe now Lars Ulrich will shut up for five minutes. Dare to dream.

This week's contributors: Laura Learmonth and Paul Fontana

Send sightings, news flashes, and bitchy bits to nights@seattleweekly.com.

 
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