The Dance Party had long expressed interest in playing a show with us. After a few weeks of phone and email tag, we finally managed to book a gig at Luna Lounge, in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. To say that the Rasputniks were excited would be an understatement. As soon the show was confirmed, we began calling all our friends and relatives in New York.

Friday January 4th

Ra Ra Rasputin currently practices at a Capoiera studio near 7th and Florida NW. Since hadn’t played together since early December, we decided to run through our usual set list and tweak a few things. Haley from the Invisible Husbands joined us for a while and snapped some photos.

Saturday January 5th

I met with Brock and Ken at the practice space around 930 AM. (Anna had taken a Greyhound bus earlier that morning). The sun was shining hard and it was bitter cold. On top of that, I was irritated because my hands were ashy and I neglected to pack moisturizer. We packed the van, made a few phone calls and hit the road. The trip up I-95 would be uneventful, bar a trip to Popeye’s and some congestion around the Delaware Memorial Bridge.

We arrived at Luna around 4:30PM, and that’s when the typical pre-show problems began: Anna was stuck on a cross-town bus; Brock and I were feeling a bit queasy from our poor choice of rest-stop nourishment; and the Dance Party were somewhere on I-278.

But there was no time for freaking out. There were five bands on the bill and we had to do a soundcheck or risk sounding like shit in front of all our friends.

Thankfully, things began to work themselves out around 6:00 PM. Anna eventually found her way to the club. My stomach eventually stopped turning and the ¾ of the Dance party eventually showed up. It was cause for a mini-celebration: New York Pizza style.

I finished dinner with the Dance Party around 7pm and found myself feeling incredibly anxious. I had an incredible amount of tension flowing through my body and my phone was ringing off the hook. I took a walk, drank a cup of coffee, wrote a postcard to a friend, and even did a bit of window-shopping. I still couldn’t shake the jitters. I’d spent so much of the day focusing on the show that I wasn’t able to relax and get in the zone. FUCK.

I gave up on lurking and went back to Luna, where I snapped a few photos, hung out with my Dad and my brother, and had a few obnoxious laughs with Kevin, Mick and Drew and Jeff. I didn’t see much of Danny because he wasn’t feeling very well. He still made the show, and in that respect, he’s quite a trooper.

The Dance Party walked on stage around 11 PM and I was excited. I didn’t enjoy any of the other bands, and my patience was wearing thin. The room was filled with friends and relatives, everyone was in a good mood, and the sound was fantastic. Partying with these guys is a riot. Joking around with them always leaves me in stitches, but I really do have a lot of respect for these guys as musicians. And respect to drummer Jeff for rockin’ that Method Man t-shirt.

After congratulating the Dance Party, we proceeded to give our blood sweat and tears to the city of my birth. Despite a few technical difficulties, we had a brilliant time. I almost busted my ankle jumping off the very high stage and Ken was hitting he bass drum so hard that he almost knocked the drum mic off the riser.

You know, it can be a bit depressing coming off stage when you’re a DIY band. We don’t have roadies or ruthless Allen Klein managers to take care of us, so unfortunately we can’t just go and party right away. Oh we can mingle for a while and have a drink. But at some point during the night, we have to pack up, deal with the money and make moves, which kind of sucks.
After a lot of plotting and hand wringing, we loaded Ken’s van and drove out to Park Slope, where we would set up camp at our boy Donny’s place. The ride over there was pretty hectic. Ugh, me driving 5 people in an over packed van on the narrow streets of Brooklyn while listening to Detroit electro, fucking hell what a nightmare. Oh, and Ken almost fell out of the window on the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway.

As for the Dance Party, don’t you worry about them. They were busy getting wild, PG County style.
The original plan was to meet at Donny’s and then find an after party. But it had been such a long day, that a few of us decided to hang out with Donny and his girl Ellie. Not very rock and roll, I know, but we were exhausted. Ken and my old friend Kevin still had energy, so they made moves to Manhattan. After everyone else went to bed, I had a cup of tea and played matchmaker for a friend via text-message.(I later found out that my efforts were successful).

Sunday January 6th

On Sunday morning I woke up, changed my shirt and made moves to the Upper East Side, where I joined some friends from DC for brunch at a posh restaurant on 92nd and Madison. My hair was nappy and unkempt, my white Fred Perrys were soiled with beer and dirt and my hands were still ashy. I was still drained from the night before, and having a lot of doubts about the show and the band. But as I was driving home, I reconsidered my feelings. I’m in a fucking band, playing shows and meeting a lot of new people. This is what I’ve wanted since the age of 13.

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