The Bouncing Souls - Home For The Holidays '11
The Good, The Bad, And The Snowbound
Story by Deborah J. Draisin
Snowbound photos by Jen Adams
Bouncing Souls photos by Dan Bracaglia
California may be a source of envy for punk fans everywhere,
with unbelievable show lineups and full band reunions to
die for, but New Jersey is no slouch in that department,
either. In addition to being the proud springboard of the
influential horror punk outfit The Misfits, da Jerz can
also claim ownership of Vision, Adrenalin O.D., Midtown,
and Lifetime. Then, of course, there are The Bouncing Souls.
Now in their fourth year of running the best home event
in the state (next to an impromptu visit from The Boss,)
the Souls’ annual “Home for the Holidays”
benefit shows span four nights and include activities such
as movie screenings, Q&A’s, ghost walks, and pinball
nights. In keeping with the spirit of reuniting awesome
bands for one night only, guest openers have included Token
Entry, Black Train Jack, Full Speed Ahead - and this year,
should have included Leftover Crack and Adrenalin O.D. (we’ll
get to that in a moment.)
The festivities are generally held at the legendary Stone
Pony. Asbury Park, with all its mystique, is a wonderland
virtually frozen in time. Its run-down buildings, clear
view of the ocean, and old-time shops are reminiscent of
ladies with parasols and gentlemen bearing pocket watches,
but nowhere in town is this effect felt more potently than
at the classic Berkeley Hotel, where concertgoers hang their
hats every year between Christmas and New Year’s in
order to celebrate their True Believer-ness.
This is where the story gets interesting, folks. Every other
year seems to feature an unexpected bend in the road (HFTH
2008 saw the Pony’s roof cave in, relocating the performances
to the nearby but echo-y Convention Center;) but 2010 was
about to top that by a mile. A blizzard was expected to
blow into town early in the morning the day of the first
show. Many spectators and band members moved to position
themselves in town early to avoid having to travel in the
white-out. Smart move? To some extent...
Those of us coming from out of town, across the country,
or even from overseas at least made it to Asbury Park, but
once the flakes had finally slowed down to a trickle (leaving
over two feet of the white stuff,) the town of Asbury decided
to shut down, shooting down any possibility of anyone even
being able to tunnel their way in or out of the hotel, much
less get into town. Virtually nothing approached the Berkeley
for the next 24 hours other than one very determined pizza
delivery man and some equally determined snowdrifts. The
Souls canceled the first night, then the second; then when
the plows didn’t show up and Asbury remained immobilized
by the “Snowpocalypse” (as it's now come to
be called,) all four shows had to be postponed. Meanwhile,
we were snowed in at the Berkeley.
The hotel staff (trapped there with us) found itself scrambling
for nourishment (some hidden pastries over here, a bit of
pineapple over there) but by Day Two, even the determined
pizza delivery man had given up the ghost.
However, the evening of the snowfall, the strandees called
a lobby meeting in order to better acquaint ourselves, seeing
as how we were, you know, trapped there together for exactly
the same purpose. To say that we’d bonded by Day Two
would be a gross understatement. We became a gang by Day
Two. We had organized activities, slogans, monikers and
a random acoustic set; and by Day Three, when the Souls
family was finally able to scrape a path from the hotel
to Asbury Lanes in order to shower the castaways with food,
drink and music (the equally antsy Souls played almost a
two hour set without anyone noticing the time going by,)
we had Stockholm Syndrome. By Day Four, we were family.
We were so altered by the experience that we had Souls bassist
Bryan Kienlen himself (who now works at Immortal Ink a couple
of days a week when not on the road) tattoo most of us with
a crew logo we'd designed in between the canceled events
and the redo, which happened the weekend of February 9-12.
By now, we had learned our lesson and never showed up any
place without tons of food, water, and prank ideas to keep
us company. As it turned out, the weather was perfect (unnerving
us with the concept of being able to actually leave the
hotel) and although a bunch of us came down with a crew
bug and a couple of us got ourselves kicked out of the venue,
the shows went off without incident.
Although we were bummed that the redo wasn’t going
to include the originally amazing opening lineup consisting
of Leftover Crack, Adrenalin O.D., H2O and Yuppicide, we
were lucky enough to wind up with Anti-Flag, the Menzingers,
Strike Anywhere and the Loved Ones.
For this go-round (dubbed “The Snowout Blowout”)
The Souls announced they would be doing (mostly) full albums
in release date order, so Night One consisted of The
Good, The Bad and The Argyle and Maniacal Laughter.
They'd hired WWE announcer Jim Norton to announce each album,
replete with a card girl walking around the stage holding
up cue card-sized versions of the album covers.
You’d think that Night One would be the most insane,
as the cuts ran as deep as Jimmy Hoffa underneath the Brooklyn
Bridge and featured openers Anti-Flag. However, the craziest
show might have been Night Two, kicked off in high form
by The Menzingers and Strike Anywhere, and then peaking
with the Self-Titled album’s “Shark
Attack” (acted out perfectly by crewmembers) - a rarely
seen treat . Hopeless Romantic had the crowd going
fucking apeshit. “Wish Me Well (You Can Go To Hell)”
featured the services of Lauren West from the band American
Pinup, and “Olè” in its entirety (“Stupidest
song we’ve ever written,” grumbled Bryan as
he strummed the opening chords) were very nice touches.
Night Three, though, was the best one for me, despite my
crushing disappointment at having to miss The Polar Bear
Club’s set due to an early onset of concert flu. Commencing
with How I Spent My Summer Vacation and closing
with my all-time favorite, Anchors Aweigh, the
show was nothing short of life-altering, despite the omission
of “New Day” and “Todd’s Song.”
“I’m From There,” written about the sad
departure of former drummer Shal Khichi, was a tearjerker.
On the final night, the band played its two most recent
albums (intro’d flawlessly by crowd pleasers The Loved
Ones.) The Gold Record (bonus: Greg forgetting
virtually all of the words to “Midnight Mile”
as the crowd sang it flawlessly back at him) and Ghosts
on the Boardwalk received a more than respectable crowd
response, and the encore blew the joint the fuck up as the
band invited their longtime friend and drum tech Dubs (who’s
moving to Hawaii) to play some of his favorite cuts onstage
with them (he chose “Lamar Vannoy,” “True
Believers,” and “Freaks, Nerds and Romantics.”)
There wasn’t much in the way of commentary as the
band wanted to plow through as many songs as they could,
but the interaction that is typical of this band and its
diehard fans was still very much there in the form of hands
and mics being held out to stage divers and reverberating
shout-alongs.
As we split an order of Asbury Lanes’ famous tater
tots with one another, took pictures together in the photo
booth and froze our asses off outside over cigarettes for
the last time, being sure to thank each member of the band
and their indispensible manager, K8 is Great, for everything,
we marveled over the fact that one band (and one snowfall)
could bond so many people together.
The Bouncing Souls and their extended family like to consider
themselves family to their diehards, and now we were family
to one another as well. One of the reasons that I love this
environment is that it’s so vastly different from
every other. A newcomer attending their first show will
receive a high five from the person next to them attending
their hundredth, and people pick each other up off the ground
without being asked.
As the last of us drove away the next morning, I thought
about all that had transpired in just a month's time, and
I found myself pitying anyone out there who hasn’t
yet realized just how powerfully cathartic art can be, and
saying a silent thank you to whatever is out there directing
me repeatedly towards it.
JerseyBeat.com
is an independently published music fanzine
covering punk, alternative, ska, techno and garage
music, focusing on New Jersey and the Tri-State
area. For the past 25 years, the Jersey Beat music
fanzine has been the authority on the latest upcoming
bands and a resource for all those interested in
rock and roll.
|
|
|
|