Showing posts with label In the Venue. Show all posts
Showing posts with label In the Venue. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
No Show
[Music] So apparently Yeasayer didn't play as scheduled last night at In the Venue. According to one anonymous user, club officials failed to inform the public ahead of time that the band would not be appearing. This is all news to me. Does anyone know why the group didn't show? Anyone care to share their experience at the club? (Jamie Gadette)
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
On Notice: In the Venue
[Music Annoyance] No Salt Lake City club is perfect, but In the Venue really took the cake last night. Most of the folks standing in line to see Interpol (and to a lesser extent Liars) were stoked that the show was moved from Orem to downtown SLC. Most of the us wore anxious smiles and talked excitedly about Carlos D's awesome mustache. Yes, excitement filled the crisp fall air. In fact, everyone seemd to forget that one time they went to see Band of Horses only to find one! bartender serving 500 people (and not very well).
As we inched close to the front, we passed a sign stating: No Cameras! No Recording Devices of Any Kind! and we happily obliged. Why ruin a perfectly nice evening by breaking the rules?
Oh, but then the burly dudes frisking us announced: No Camera Phones!
Huh. That's funny. Would have been nice to know that before we waited in line for 45 minutes. Apparently one of the bands (probably but not necessarily Interpol) orchestrated this disaster, but it seems likely that SOMEONE in SLC learned of this prima donna request hours if not days before we lined up for a big waste of time.
When 80 percent of the crowd has a camera phone, it's only polite to let them know well in advance of your bizarro ban. No Common Sense allowed!
Here is an example of the "damage" a camera phone can wreak on a band's career courtesy of someone who wasn't frisked:
(Something tells me this photo won’t make him rich.)
To the club's credit, the concert itself thrilled and chilled. Liars (though not appreciated by the first four rows of 18-year-olds who came to see Interpol and not some icky, weird-o band that plays loud, weird-o music) were fucking awesome. Angus Andrew was a 6-foot-plus vision in white. Interpol was beautiful and hypnotic as usual.
I even left on a high note: Liars' co-singer/percussionist Andrew shaved seven bucks off the price of my new Liars v-neck. I will think of him and not the ridiculous camera phone incident whenever I wear it. So there's that.
City Weekly contributor Dominique and our buddy Chris were not so lucky. Says Chris:
"So, Liars and Interpol both played and when it was over, Lucero could still be heard in the front of the club. We headed back to the bar (which you must pass through in order to reach the front of the club), but we were advised (in these words), 'The bar is closed. People from the Interpol show are not allowed in the bar. The bar is closed. If you want to see Lucero, you have to go back outside, to the side door and pay $15, but the bar is closed.'"
Turns out, the bar was not closed. Just closed to people who paid $27-to-$40 to see a different show on the other side of a thin wall.
Huh. (Jamie Gadette)
As we inched close to the front, we passed a sign stating: No Cameras! No Recording Devices of Any Kind! and we happily obliged. Why ruin a perfectly nice evening by breaking the rules?
Oh, but then the burly dudes frisking us announced: No Camera Phones!
Huh. That's funny. Would have been nice to know that before we waited in line for 45 minutes. Apparently one of the bands (probably but not necessarily Interpol) orchestrated this disaster, but it seems likely that SOMEONE in SLC learned of this prima donna request hours if not days before we lined up for a big waste of time.
When 80 percent of the crowd has a camera phone, it's only polite to let them know well in advance of your bizarro ban. No Common Sense allowed!
Here is an example of the "damage" a camera phone can wreak on a band's career courtesy of someone who wasn't frisked:
(Something tells me this photo won’t make him rich.)
To the club's credit, the concert itself thrilled and chilled. Liars (though not appreciated by the first four rows of 18-year-olds who came to see Interpol and not some icky, weird-o band that plays loud, weird-o music) were fucking awesome. Angus Andrew was a 6-foot-plus vision in white. Interpol was beautiful and hypnotic as usual.
I even left on a high note: Liars' co-singer/percussionist Andrew shaved seven bucks off the price of my new Liars v-neck. I will think of him and not the ridiculous camera phone incident whenever I wear it. So there's that.
City Weekly contributor Dominique and our buddy Chris were not so lucky. Says Chris:
"So, Liars and Interpol both played and when it was over, Lucero could still be heard in the front of the club. We headed back to the bar (which you must pass through in order to reach the front of the club), but we were advised (in these words), 'The bar is closed. People from the Interpol show are not allowed in the bar. The bar is closed. If you want to see Lucero, you have to go back outside, to the side door and pay $15, but the bar is closed.'"
Turns out, the bar was not closed. Just closed to people who paid $27-to-$40 to see a different show on the other side of a thin wall.
Huh. (Jamie Gadette)
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