Science Club played its first show last night. Considering that we prepared for this show by not practicing for a month and eating double ice cream at the Dairy Queen in the Plymouth Meeting mall, it went just about as well as one would expect.
The inaugural voyage of the good ship SC took place on Temple’s campus in a section of their student union delightfully named “The Underground.” It was kind of like a real-life, carpeted version of “The Maxx” from Saved By The Bell in that there were booths and snacks and young adults discussing homework, etc. The whole thing was a benefit for a service trip, so there were a lot of good, kindhearted people politely clapping and smiling while we grunted and sweated and fucked up our songs.
And fuck them up, we did. Most disastrous of all the tunes was our cover of “Dancing in the Dark.” I can’t speak for Joe or Nick, but I know that I played about one wrong note for every four correct notes. Also, because I am a dickhead, I forgot the words half way through and had to resort to yelling unintelligible nonsense for a little bit. Things also got a little pulling-at-the-collar-y when we asked a room full of community service people to shout “hail, Satan!” with us during “The Best Ever Death Metal Band in Denton” (one young woman even asked us “Wait…are you serious?” right before we played the song. That was fun).
Still, it was a right good time, mistakes and all. We played fast and loud enough not to embarrass ourselves and the people of Temple were very nice to us, even offering to have us back next year. The rap band that played after us was way good, too. The band that played before us had not one but two good guitar players that made me feel inadequate. The service people were selling baked goods, and I wolfed down a bunch of cookies and chocolate until my stomach felt like quitting. Afterward, we went back to Liz’s house and played an acoustic set in her basement for our girlfriends, a few stoned kids and a hipster girl. Fun Fact: when we are playing quietly in someone’s basement so as not to wake the neighbors, we go by either Study Hall or Quiet Club.
So, all in all, on a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being “you are the worst band ever” and 10 being “cocaine stripper Thursday,” our first show was about a 5. We fucked up a lot, but people seemed to like us and we could still look each other in the face afterward. Special thanks to Temple and to Jess Wagner for hooking some brothers up.
Since this was our first show and because it was a 20 minute set to a room full of people we didn’t know trying to make some money for a cause we knew little to nothing about, we decided to go a little heavy on the covers. I think it worked out: a nice young man named Nick did some punch-dancing while we played “Video Killed The Radio Star,” and I am told that at least four people got excited for our Mountain Goats cover. Any time you can get four out of 50 people excited for something, it’s a win.
1) Video Killed the Radio Star
4) Dancing in the Dark
“Just hoping this isn’t the usual way our missions will go, sir.”
“Oh no, Number One, I’m sure most will be much more interesting. Let’s see what’s out there. Engage.”
-- Riker and Picard in ST:TNG "Encounter At Farpoint"