The Music of Your (My) Life?

I made my weekly visit to Guercio's on Grant Street on Buffalo's West Side today; for those of you who haven't been there or aren't from Buffalo, it is a great Italian market and deli with some very high-quality ethnic foods and deli choices, as well as some very good and very inexpensive coffee beans.

It is also home of a very fun and interesting staff that enjoys certain music, from Italian crooners and American versions (including Frank Sinatra, Jerry Vale, Dean Martin and Al Martino), and classic hits, which are what the stations are mostly tuned to when I go there. I rather enjoy the days the crooner stations are on (who doesn't enjoy some early to mid-period Sinatra), and there is a photo of Elvis Presley in Las Vegas "choking" a family member from the early 1970s near one of the cash registers.

Today, when I got there, I went to the deli first, as usual, and took my number; seeing it was crowded and I was 10 numbers away from getting served, I went to get my coffee beans. When I returned, the area I was standing in was directly in the middle of the area where you could hear the station the store was playing and the music or station the women working in the deli were playing.

So, I heard David Bowie singing "Golden Years" on the store station, while Hall and Oates were singing "Kiss on My List" on the deli station, finishing a two-song set that classic hits station was featuring this weekend.

The next set? Making an, um, riveting segue, the station played two songs by Andy Gibb, "I Just Want to Be Your Everything" and "Shadow Dancing." Boy, howdy, just what I wanted to hear, but apparently, I was in the minority. A couple of deli workers and customers sang along to the late Mr. Gibb, and one customer, a woman about age 40-45, began slowly swaying and dancing to "I Just Want to Be Your Everything," and picked up the pace to "Shadow Dancing."

I smiled and said nothing about it; at least they were enjoying the music.

Mohawk Place Memories

             It is sad, but maybe not too surprising with the way things in the Buffalo bar, club and music industries go, that after a long run (20-25 years for me, as far as I can remember), that the legendary Mohawk Place, 47 East Mohawk Street in Buffalo, will be closing later this month.

            It has been interesting and bittersweet to read all of the recollections of shows, events, people and other occurrences that have been written and posted online, in print and so on, and because I don’t want to repeat too much, I have waited to write about some of my strongest memories of Mohawk Place.

            There is no question that there have been tons of great local and national bands and acts featured at Mohawk Place, anywhere from the likes of Scott Carpenter and the Real McCoys, girlpope, Dollywatchers, the Irving Klaws. Bobo, Oui73 and the Steam Donkeys, as well as reunions of the Jumpers, Ramrods and several of the above bands, to Rosie Flores, Steve Wynn and the Miracle 3. the Fleshtones, Two-Cow Garage, Lords of the Highway and the Cowslingers. The annual Joe Strummer tributes were also memorable events.

            But I want to focus on two events that are more unique or at least personal for me. The first was a simple, fun and momentarily horrifying event; one New Year’s Eve in the 1990s, Scott Carpenter and the Real McCoys were tearing things up. When midnight approached, Scott called Val Dunne and me onstage to sing “Auld Lang Syne;” at this point, Val and I were only good friends and years away from dating. We staggered up on stage (I was still drinking at this point) and warbled out the song as best we could; having been known for, um, honest, full-contact reviews of live acts, I wondered if anyone would notice my lack of singing skills, but it seems the Real McCoys drowned out my attempts.

            The Americanarama music festival found its eventual home at Mohawk Place, after starting at the Pierce Arrow (I think that is where the first one was held). The 2000 Americanarama, at Mohawk Place, was where Val and I went from being good friends to romantically involved; in particular, due to the music, the atmosphere and efforts of two friends, Alexandra Lynne (Arnold, Manias) and Toby Sachsenmaier. While most of the music was performed on the outdoor stage, the last couple of bands were moved inside Mohawk Place, and as the Irving Klaws ended the night, Val and I kissed, um, a lot. To continue the tradition, I proposed to Val exactly one year later (at home), during the then-two-day Americanarama, and announced it to all there. One year to the date after that, we were married June 23, 2002, in Las Vegas.

            So, as you can see, along with the music, Val and I will always have a rather warm, special place in our hearts for Mohawk Place. We also value the friendship of so many people working or formerly working there, such as Pete Perrone, the owner through most of the club’s glory days whose health we wish for improvement, as well as Marty Boratin, Renee Roberts, Mikel Doktor, Tim Saracki, Bill Nehill, Chris Malachowski and Robyn Conniff (sorry to anyone I missed). Man, will Mohawk Place be missed.

Christmas Music for ELP Fans: Oh, Joy to the World

For those of you asking, no, I didn't get holiday cards from the Trans-Siberian Orchestra or Mannheim Steamroller this year, or past years, for that matter. It could be my comments on their musical wretchedness.

As I told one person on Facebook this year, their awful music sounds to me like Emerson, Lake and Palmer on amphetamines, and as another friend wrote, just what they wanted in their Christmas/holiday music, more bombast. But while I wrote one several times in my head, I simply don't have the wish to write a major piece on this topic...again, I suppose.

Sorry, Been Busy, Blah, Blah, Blah

As a few of you probably noticed, I have been pretty slack in updating The Hosey Report. I started this blog to be able to write about music and music-related items at my pace, but that pace should not have been slower than Republicans realizing they are on the wrong side of history.

While I am not a New Year's resolution kind of person, I plan to get back into a much higher gear with the blog, and have a couple of stories and posts already in mind. If I fall back again, you fine readers are given permission to metaphorically kick my ass. In the meantime, enjoy this hideous photograph of me from 1976-1977. Maybe now you'll understand why I chose to be on the other side of the camera lo, those many years ago.