Sunday, May 07, 2006
Funky Town: Now a suburb of Chicago
Last night I spent the evening in the Northwest suburbs with some lady friends who dwell out in those parts. We had two objectives: one was to see one pal's new apartment and drink her beer, and the other was to bust out a mother of two who had spent the day with her family at Elmopalooza.
We settled in at Durty Nelle's in Palatine where the menu included burger, beer, and three decades of cover bands.
The 70s band (pictured above during a WGN appearance) called the Aphrodisiacs were decked out in Disco Stu attire, theatrical, and fun to watch. The guys then repackaged themselves as the Spasmatics to cover the 80s with the lead singer wearing a neckbrace. While I was thinking that I didn't quite get that part of his costume, he must of read my mind because he dropped to his knees and started simulating how he performs oral sex on a woman, while noting that the neck brace helped him in that endeavor. It was a shocking display as I was sure oral sex is illegal in the suburbs.
The last band of the night--covering 90s and more recent heavily played radio songs--really took their job seriously. And by really, I mean REALLY. Since I wasn't drunk, just awfully relaxed and slightly silly, I had the presence of mind to stand there and be as judgy and critical as possible. And yes, I still shook my ass from time to time, so they weren't all that bad.
"WE'RE FUCKING PARTYING!" Hissed the lead singer, who was wearing a T-shirt that read, I love rock. But the word "love" was represented by a pentagram, encased in a circle. This guy was bad ass. He continued to massage the crowd.
"RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE!" someone yelled behind me. He was ignored.
"WE'RE IN THE PILL, MAN! FUCKING PALATINE, ILLINOIS!" Mr. Bad Ass shouted, "WE'RE IN THE PILL!"
I'm in the pill? I looked at my friend, Elmopalooza mom and she said, "Hey, I don't live here."
When the band struck up the beginning of The White Stripes' Seven Nation Army, Mr. Bad Ass bit his bottom lip and started to punch the air with both arms to the drum beat, almost as if he was doing bench presses. He urged the crowd to follow suit. One of my friends immediately obliged.
"Don't do what he tells you to do," I said, scolding her.
She immediately stopped and looked down at her feet.
Then he started to sing, prompting someone on stage to push the "CHOICE VOCAL EFFECTS" button, because this is what I heard:
I'm going to fight 'em off
A seven nation army couldn't hold me back
They're gonna rip it off. off off off off off off off off off off off off off off