Show #8: Atlanta, Ga.
When some think of Atlanta, they think of Ted Turner, OutKast, or the Coke Museum. I think of the Eyedrum.
The Eyedrum is a is a “non-profit organization developing contemporary art, music and new media in its gallery space” where, on two separate occasions in the early aughts, I played to no people. After my second bad show at Eyedrum, my now ex-bandmates and I agreed that Eyedrum was “bummin’” (“bummin’” was an expression we often employed). In the ten years I played in that band, this is one of the few things we did not debate.
I will say that the Eyedrum once let me sleep in their venue. For this, they deserve credit.
“Sure, you guys can sleep here,” said the Eyedrum representative. “However, I’ve gotta leave. Once I leave and take the key, you can’t leave Eyedrum and get back in. So don’t leave until morning. And, once I turn out the lights, you can’t turn them back on again. So, I’m turning the lights off now, and you must immediately go to sleep. Good night.”
Don’t get me wrong: Eyedrum did me a favor when I slept there. However, the favor made me hate both myself (the favor recipient) and Eyedrum (the favor grantor), as if I was an underage person seeking to procure alcohol, and found a sketchy guy with greasy long hair in the liquor store parking lot who was willing to purchase alcohol on my behalf for a can of beer.
For years, no matter how desperate I was for an Atlanta show, I would not contact Eyedrum. Then, I began receiving email and snail mail solicitations from the group. Unbelievably, Eyedrum had mounted a capital campaign. I did not donate, but one day, was so desperate for an Atlanta show that I emailed Eyedrum. “I am on your donation list,” I wrote. “You send me solicitations. Can I talk to you about a show?” No one replied.
Luckily, I was able to avoid Eyedrum this time in Atlanta and I played at ISP with this good Atlanta local, an industrial-ish outfit. Payment was not excessive, but people wandered in and out of the venue in a Downtown 81 fashion that I appreciated. During the show, the mic shocked my face twice, but I twice recovered. I even sold a T-shirt.
Still, after the show, I fled Atlanta and stayed at a motel in Montgomery, Ala. Who knew whether Eyedrum would find some way to strike again?
March 20th, 2007 at 2:39 pm
Hey man, I’m really enjoying your blog. I’ve got tons of a respect for someone who’s out there doing what they want to do. I started playing guitar at age 13, formed short-lived bands here and there, always wanted to play music for a living but never had the balls or the determination to actually go out and do it.
I’m staring 30 in the face and realizing it’s not going to happen at this point, and I see guys like you who have spent their 20s doing what they wanted to do, I’m envious.
By the way I don’t think you’ve mentioned it anywhere - what’s the name of your band?
March 20th, 2007 at 8:29 pm
Thanks for your kind words. The name of my band is Antelope. There is a link to us on this blog.
But, just so you know, I don’t play music for a living. I do make a bit money doing it, but most of my fundage comes from the fact that I am a “trust-fund” kid (though I do make another bit of $ as a freelance writer). Few people understand that there simply isn’t a lot of $ in indie music anymore, if there ever was. The only reason I was able to spend my 20’s “doing what I wanted to do” is because I am a rich bastard. I plan to explore this in my forthcoming autobiography “Against Mediocrity: The Justin Moyer Story.”
I hope this doesn’t destroy your faith in “Iceland.” Thanks for the comment and hope to catch you on the flipside.
Also, I just turned 30, and I realized that thinking “it’s not going to happen” distracts you from the fact that whatever you are doing–which, even if you just play for yourself–IS something. So don’t sell yourself short.
March 21st, 2007 at 10:35 am
Haven’t destroyed my faith at all! The whole “trust-fund” thing just adds another dimension to the story…
But if you’re a rich bastard I wonder - why haggle over the cost of a cheap motel room? Why not stay at the Four Seasons? Is it a matter of principle? Or are you not THAT much of a rich bastard?
Keep up the good writing!
March 21st, 2007 at 1:13 pm
A great majority of them touring bands, in my opinion, are nothing but a waste of electricity and gasoline, not to mention a major source of annoyance to the bar going public. Why can’t anyone be like the Beatles?
March 21st, 2007 at 1:15 pm
It’s overwhelmingly obvious, however, that the Antelope is not one of those awful bands.
March 21st, 2007 at 1:42 pm
One simply can’t go wrong with post-punk.
March 21st, 2007 at 2:28 pm
Antelope is an amazing band. Our little Atlanta venue caught a great show…really glad Elevado got to open. the Atlanta scene is getting better and I wanted to share this bit I wrote yesterday with youISP Blog
March 22nd, 2007 at 3:26 pm
Mr Moyer, we were leveled by your stage presence during Antelope’s set in Atlanta and focus, also before and after the show - incredible dedication to your writing and oh yeah, we caught you stealing internet from the local east atlanta establishments, apparently to write this column for The Washington City Paper. Again, very inspiring.
I am re-thinking many of my pre-conceived conceptions of what it means to tour and to be in a band just by seeing one Antelope show at ISP. The other members of Antelope shared this DIY aesthetic and focus and the band was on the road, drinking coffee on their way out of town after leaving the remaining audience comprised mostly of Atlanta’s musical elite with their jaws sitting on the floor, wondering what Antelope was doing playing such a small room.