I have an admitted soft spot for Galaxy Hut and it’s owners, both past and present. Tonight however, Lary Hoffman rocketed to the top of my favorite people in the DC music scene. I arrived at the club a little after 8 and was nearly run over by a fire engine on my way to a parking spot. I chalked it up to the pace of Arlington and how much it has changed since I lived less than a block away. Rounding the corner, the event soon had a little more significance.
Encountering Davis White, the drummer for DC shoegazing legends Lorelei and tonight’s opener, I noticed an odd smirk across his face. Soon I was brought up to speed that the fire engine had been hard at work behind the building, as a transformer had caught ablaze. They were successful in extinguishing the fire, but the result was that the entire block was without power with no apparent relief in sight. Everything on the street had already closed up shop. Melting gelatto packed away for another day. On the door of Galaxy Hut however was a hopeful note: “Doors now at 9. Bands at 10!”
I soon learned that Lary had frantically gone into action immediately. Trying first and foremost to keep the band’s show alive, he proposed to another venue up the street that still had power, that the concert be moved to there. Despite not having booked that evening and with the prospect of a nice crowd walking up to drink and eat, things just didn’t work out. What was he going to do???? The staff had set about saving the food by loading up coolers but how was he going to save the show?
He soon began calling Home Depot and securing the very last generator they had available. Racing quickly there and back, he set about making the club as comfortable as possible while trying to rig just enough power for the bands to play on. Tiny candles began to wrap the tables along the edges of the small room. Beer found it’s way to flowing from the buckets of ice and my favorite thing about Mondays; Julie bartending, began to work her magic. Sure there was no food or working credit card machine and the beer on tap wasn’t as cold as usual - but dammit the show was going to go on!
As the boys from Lorelei rolled in their serious gear, we all wondered if the generator was going to be able to send enough juice to all quadrants. I stood next to Lary as he finally began to settle down a bit. I silently surveyed the assembled, from the wonderful Canannes here all the way from Australia to headline, to indie rock icon Johnny Cohen and other Arlington luminaries of past and present, I knew the night was quickly turning into something special.
I also knew that it had no business as being such. I turned to Lary and shook my head saying how crazy he was running all over the place (and certainly investing in an expensive generator that a bucket full of PBR was unlikely to cover.) I wondered why he didn’t just give up when he couldn’t move the show. Concerts had been cancelled over a little ice in this fragile town, but those venues still had power. “I just couldn’t do it to these guys,” he said. “The bands deserve to have the show.”
I thought back to the growing pains as Lary had taken over this local institution from the revered Alice Despard. It hasn’t always been easy and some things have worked better than others but one constant has remained in place: Lary’s heart. Even if it isn’t in the best interest of his business, he cares about his patrons and the acts that play there like few others. In that regard he is indeed carrying on the fine tradition of the club he now proudly owns. In a city of cutthroat business at times and in a neighborhood where the clock feels like it’s ticking on the last bits of unique culture that haven’t been bulldozed over for a Starbucks, nights like this make me proud to be a part of this town.
As the epic sound starts to pour out of Lorelei, showing that they haven’t missed one dynamic step since being away for far too long, the setting starts to feel perfect. I want to stay all evening but I also want to do my best to share this feeling with even more than the assembled. I start to type away. It’s nights like this that are more important than just me. Bigger than the fifty people crowded in the club. I want you all to know that you don’t need anything more to make an evening special than someone who truly cares about making it special for you. I had taken Lary’s desire to do just that for granted.
It took the lights going out for me to see clearly.
Lary will almost certainly be terribly embarrassed by this entire article but I don’t have any other way to say thank you. Not just for me, but for everyone who ever played in a band or bar goer who pulled up a stool and enjoyed a cold beer and heard something amazing for the first time from some crazy kids from their neighborhood. Thanks for caring.
Thanks from all of us.
thanks john you are a sweetie
June 17, 2008 at 12:35 pm