Present Tense
From Singer Amanda Rowse:
you may also remember Amanda from this Chissum Worthington Promo:
For myself and Present Tense, Kiss or Kill has truly been a family. It has been a constant and positive reminder of that which we all seek in our musical endeavors; a place where player and spectator alike can appreciate a community of supportive, driven, fun individuals who come together each week (and often times more frequently than that) to create something bigger than any one band or fan or promoter, no matter how successful, could experience alone. Call it a "scene". Call it a group of friends. To me it was always more than these words can sum up.
I first came to Kiss or Kill during it's time at The Echo, when the Echoplex downstairs was new. I had heard about it from various acquaintances, but after several years of Present Tense gigs and nights out as an onlooker at countless clubs, phrases like "a really fun club" and "great music" and "cool people" began to lose much of their substance. I had played and seen some great shows, but the Amanda that first walked into The Echo that night years ago was becoming a rapid convert to the much touted belief that Los Angeles' live local music scene had become too disjointed, and that too often people DID just come out to see a specific band, have a drink, then hop back in their cars to make the drive home without a second thought as to the night as a whole. So often I had seen or been put on bills that just didn't make sense musically, each band having nothing to do with the next, with the exception of a possible "hello" or a "is your drum kit clear of the stage yet?” Although we live in a town with countless musical possibilities occurring every night of the week, people had been overwhelmed by this disconnected, pay-to-play standard which saturated so many great venues, audiences left not knowing what to think of these musical arranged marriages of sorts. There were exceptions to this, of course, there always are, and we were fortunate enough to find some of these, but I was definitely starting to see this problem as a reality of time and place.
So, as I say, I first attended Kiss or Kill not really knowing what to expect, but having heard enough good things to warrant a drive out from Hollywood to see what the night was all about. I remember liking all of the sets that I saw that night, but I remember more than anything being struck by the force and energy of the crowd in the club. This was not the self conscious, detached, hipster crowd that seemed to have taken over so much of the East Side of Los Angeles. These people knew each other, LIKED each other, and didn’t bat an eye before rushing up to the front, singing along, showing their enthusiasm for each band to take the stage. The crowd was the same for the entire evening, only growing as the night rolled on. I felt a rush of enthusiasm and appreciation for what I saw, for whatever this was, it was different than anything I had seen around town in a while. It was so intimate, my enthusiasm was somewhat countered by a tremendous awareness that I was an outsider, which only served to heighten my curiosity - one can only be an outsider in a situation where there are established bonds strong enough to be visible to someone new. Our friend Gint had come to the club with me that night, and I remember our excited conversation with Tom later, describing what we had seen, deciding we would go back the next week to see if it happened again.
And it did. We went back, and have been going back ever since. Throughout the years since I first found Kiss or Kill, some things have changed: some faces, venues, days of the week, but the constancy of its community and spirit have remained strong. We have played and partied with all of you, from squirt gun filled summer bbqs at the Old Towne Pub to late night camaraderie outside Little Pedro's, basking in the glow of Safari Sam's sounds system as Rob Z's eloquent introduction mingles with a driving fender and the audience's shouts and applause, the all day and night sun and tequila infused mayhem of Sunset Junction at El Cid. Proms, toga parties, record releases, reunions, birthdays, graduations, the list could go on. But you know that, because you were all there experiencing and participating in it too.
I know that in this world change is arguably the only constant, and that at this juncture Kiss or Kill too shall come to pass. And although I understand why it is ending, I won't forget what it did for me, what it did for all of us these past years. But really, all of the bands, promoters and supporters are what made Kiss or Kill more than just a random club night, more than just another gig; we made it a true musical and social community that brimmed with talent, drive, and friendship, so I should really say that I won't forget what we did. I was not there from the first days of the club, but I am very happy in knowing that for some time now Present Tense and I have been a piece of the "we" - it has been such a major part my life these past several years in large part because that "we" gave me a new appreciation for what can happen when people come together with a common vision and a positive outlook. And because it fucking rocked.
To all of you I say thanks. You don’t have to go home, but you can't stay here - well, maybe for just a few more shows.
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