That's what Mr. Kristal said, gently chiding me while noticing my Yalmalkah as I ascended the one-step-up-stage at CBGB's for our first show at his hallowed club. I was excited! But while it was happening, I didn't think my debut at CB's (July 1978) went all that well.
A tech issue with my guitarists amp flummoxed me totally while my drummer collapsed over his drum set - mid song - after mixing umpteen beers with Quaaludes. And compared to the kind of crowds we'd get at the nearby Club 82 (known then as "Stickball") during our summer-long after-hours weekend residency, the sparse Wednesday night crowd's applause seemed all but obligatory; after all this was "New Band night." I felt like I was sucking wind as I spit / sang my self penned Jew-punk influenced tunes whilst trying to wring banshee drones from my overdriven guitar. Hell, as long as things were going wrong, I might as well try to screw it up more. Better to burn out than fade away, right? Right.
After packing up the van, driving my drummer home and having his mother and sister begrudgingly help me carry him and his drum set into their house in Astoria, I found myself back in my hole of an apartment on Fulton Street in lower Manhattan at 4am exhausted - way too exhausted to even contemplate disappointment. I plain passed out on the couch.
The next morning while slugging it out at my day job, my college buddy and guitar foil, Tom Goodkind (who went on to manage the Peppermint Lounge and form the Washington Squares) asked if I was listening to the radio. "Put on WNEW RIGHT NOW" (or was it WPLJ? I don't remember) he screamed..."your FAMOUS." And there it was as I heard it - as if it were a moment ago; DJ "Alfredo" was singing my praises for all the tri-state metro area to hear- "...he's New York's first and only underground Kosher rocker...,""...catch this show at any price."
While I'm not famous (yet), at very least I learned that a Bracha often comes into our lives in ways we cannot fathom. Did I make a Bracha that night, Mr. Kristal? Perhaps now you know for sure...please - send me sign at your earliest convenience. Thank you.
The evolutionary psychologist argues that Jews have evolved to outcompete gentiles. Joey Kurtzman and John Derbyshire discuss whether he's America's most dangerous antisemite or an insightful scholar.
Velvel Rosenbloom
Mr. Kristal's Bracha
"Go make a Bracha, kid."
That's what Mr. Kristal said, gently chiding me while noticing my Yalmalkah as I ascended the one-step-up-stage at CBGB's for our first show at his hallowed club. I was excited! But while it was happening, I didn't think my debut at CB's (July 1978) went all that well.
A tech issue with my guitarists amp flummoxed me totally while my drummer collapsed over his drum set - mid song - after mixing umpteen beers with Quaaludes. And compared to the kind of crowds we'd get at the nearby Club 82 (known then as "Stickball") during our summer-long after-hours weekend residency, the sparse Wednesday night crowd's applause seemed all but obligatory; after all this was "New Band night." I felt like I was sucking wind as I spit / sang my self penned Jew-punk influenced tunes whilst trying to wring banshee drones from my overdriven guitar. Hell, as long as things were going wrong, I might as well try to screw it up more. Better to burn out than fade away, right? Right.
After packing up the van, driving my drummer home and having his mother and sister begrudgingly help me carry him and his drum set into their house in Astoria, I found myself back in my hole of an apartment on Fulton Street in lower Manhattan at 4am exhausted - way too exhausted to even contemplate disappointment. I plain passed out on the couch.
The next morning while slugging it out at my day job, my college buddy and guitar foil, Tom Goodkind (who went on to manage the Peppermint Lounge and form the Washington Squares) asked if I was listening to the radio. "Put on WNEW RIGHT NOW" (or was it WPLJ? I don't remember) he screamed..."your FAMOUS." And there it was as I heard it - as if it were a moment ago; DJ "Alfredo" was singing my praises for all the tri-state metro area to hear- "...he's New York's first and only underground Kosher rocker...,""...catch this show at any price."
While I'm not famous (yet), at very least I learned that a Bracha often comes into our lives in ways we cannot fathom. Did I make a Bracha that night, Mr. Kristal? Perhaps now you know for sure...please - send me sign at your earliest convenience. Thank you.