Monday, June 1, 2009
The Spin Moustache May Celebration at Mercy Lounge 5/30/09
Posted by The Spin on Mon, Jun 1, 2009 at 9:48 AM
It should suffice to say that normally, were we to say, "The Spin arrived at Mercy Lounge Saturday night wearing a moustache," that would at the very least expose our gender identity. But this particular Saturday--falling as it did near the end of the fifth month--saw even the most svelte of women sporting the cherished lip wig in celebration of Moustache May.
Whether or not it is our custom to attend rock shows with facial plumage is one thing; that we are almost always late to such shows is quite another and, sadly, we lived up to our own low expectations by--due to circumstances well beyond our control--arriving late enough to this party so as to miss out on the performance by Uncle Skeleton, which we had been anticipating. We ascended the Mercy Lounge stairs to the sounds of And the Relatives, who on this occasion sounded as good as we've ever heard them--crisp and powerful, and augmented by the vocal abilities of the affable Caitlin Rose.
Off to our right there had gathered a group of tall, muscular men with severely cropped hair who were working themselves into quite a froth. Had this been an episode of China Beach, and every moustachioed showgoer were instead a Vietnamese prostitute, we might have thought they were out on R&R, "blowing off some steam" or some such. During the break between bands, we retired to the smoking deck, where men discussed their Internet nicknames in brassy tones and pointed heartily to each other's facial acoutrements. We were also reminded that the line between a Charlie Chaplin moustache and an Adolf Hitler moustache is, suffice it to say, thin at best.
Ghostfinger, the logical choice to headline this event, took the stage in their most effective configuration: Richie Kirkpatrick on guitar and lead facial hair; Matt Rowland on variously stacked and sometimes neon green keyboards; Van Campbell on the vast and thundering drums. The 'Finger sweated through a marathon set that, as is the band's manner, was both wild and composed, after which Rowland made an appearance on the deck with an unbuttoned shirt--displaying for all the fact that the better part of his front side, truth be told, is one long and capacious beard.
As the collective drunkenness reached its apex, a female cohort expressed her frustration that nary a man of Moustache May had deigned to make her acquaintance. Hearing this, just such a man attempted to offer her a hairpiece to match her ensemble. But a confusing set of cell phone menus kept her attention from finding its focus on this gallant gent. Perhaps next year.
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