According to my roommate, Ted, the ECC was once again juggling an unwieldy card of indie acts. This didn't particularly differ from any other night at the venue, save the bands were all from out of state. This time, if Joel pissed off the bands they didn't have a 5 minute drive home to vent. These peeps had road time ahead of them, so the frustrations flew, apparently, before embarking for distant home.
Ted remarked that there was discernible fervor rifling through the air when he showed up, forking over the unusual $3.00 cover charge. Per usual, there remained a 25 minute wait for the set change, painfully long, but not unheard in ECC time. The chill atmosphere is what drives the place, right?
He also noticed Joel and two of his compatriots frenzily darting about the place, trying to maintain order in chaotic surroundings. Drugs may or may not have been involved. Understandably bored with the music-less atmosphere of the set change, Ted left, as Joel cursed and pointed violently in various directions.
* * * *"They were amazing," Amy remarked of the band that destroyed the ECC. "First they got on stage, talked tons of shit about Joel and the ECC, said they were never playing in Ohio again, and then they rocked. They blew us all away."
She speaks of Wichita, Kansas-based band, The Empress, who characterize themselves as "thrash/post hardcore/punk," and obviously have some aggressions towards Joel, whom they called, "a fucker," clotheslined, and pummeled on stage.
Amy said the Empress went crazy, undoubtedly angry at being forced to play late, much like the Parsley Flakes in my September post, "My night at the ECC." They punched holes in the walls, kicked amps, continued to pound on Joel, flip chairs, and destroy artwork.
"But they were amazing, so we didn't know what to do. We wanted to clap because the music was awesome, but at the same time they were destroying our hang-out."
Upon hearing the story, I embarked on an analogy. Say you throw a kick-ass party at your parents house. One of your friends invites cool guys that bring a keg. The party goes crazy, out of control, the greatest party in recent memory. But your parents' house gets trashed.
The ECC is like my home, and Joel, my dad being clotheslined.
The lackadaisical Electric Community Center will rest in peace.
Wait, make that 'rest in post hardcore violence.'