When I used to read stories of the glory years of rock ‘n’ roll, I couldn’t help but lament the lack of a “scene” there seems to be these days. When Eric Clapton would come tour America, he’d hang out with Hendrix in New York City, where they’d roam around with their guitars strapped to their backs and pop into smokey clubs just to jam with whoever happened to be around. Back in England, the bars he frequented were populated by the likes of Pete Townshend and Mick Jagger well before any of them were household names. When Motley Crue played at the Whiskey A Go Go in the early ’80s, the Sunset Strip was a community party. The whole LA music scene seemed like a big leather pants-wearing, blow-snorting family.
Et Tu, Facebook?
This isn’t to say I wish that Shaimus shows were knee-deep in cocaine. I don’t. (I don’t want leather pants, either.) But the fact is, I have long felt that there has been a lack of fellowship among bands lately. The days of bands that stuck it out together in their town, offering support and companionship as they all worked toward that common goal of musical euphoria have seemingly begun dying out as technology has slowly moved the majority of band members’ time from the streets and into cyberspace. It’s not that there is no fellowship at all, but there is a lot less of it–we’ve noticed this as we try to build relationships with like-minded, talented bands that will stick this brutal industry out with us.Read More