Two guys, two nights of music and beer at the City of Roses: A first-person account

Armed with the tools of their trade and a thirst for music and fun, OFF! writers James Samons and Ryan King hit the streets during the City of Roses Music Festival. What they saw was at once strange and right. The following is their account.

Getting drunk with musicians -- Friday

by James Samons

As I descended upon historic downtown Cape and the City of Roses music festival Friday night with a $3, 000 camera and high hopes, I wondered what kind of trouble the night would bring my way.

After all, I had promised my fiancée that I wasn't going to be drinking, yet the combo of free beer and rock 'n roll made sobriety highly unlikely.

After picking up my golden ticket (media pass) at Jeremiah's, I immediately headed over to the Themis stage for a taste of Cairo, Ill., called Stace England and the Cairo Project. And, although I wasn't intoxicated yet, I have to say this bluesy foursome started the night off well (and I could've swore Brian Wilson was up there playing guitar).

I definitely left the Stace experience knowing the plight of Cairo. After watching Southeast Missouri State's Studio Jazz Ensemble for a few (they were very good, but seemed to have problems playing in that area), I continued on and scanned the crowd to get an idea of who or what was down by the riverside that night.

A great mix of young and old, punks and hippies, skaters and preppies, seemed to come together to listen to some local music. It almost brought a tear to my eye, or was that the gigantic mosquito chewing on my arm?

Anyway, next I headed over to the Independence stage where Last Day Fighting, a young punk band, was about to play. Although I felt uneasy being in a crowd where everyone could easily be my son or daughter (and I'm 26), the wonderful early Green Day-esque stylings of the three (normally four, they were missing a guitarist) high schoolers was a treat.

Next, it was time to get the inside scoop with local bassist (in four bands) and friend Jeb Stuart. While Farmington mad-at-their-dad band Neo X Geo played, Jeb and I talked shop and yes, drank a bit -- because that is what you have to do when you interview these rock guys.

After a few PBRs and some whiskey, it was time for the Dirty 30's to play, and they did more than that -- they entertained. I thought they would have a hard time with the crowd left over from Last Day Fighting and Neo X Geo, but no such problem as many people flocked from the several other stages to see the 30's.

By shows end, nearly 200 people had come. The 30's sounded better than anyone else on Friday (by far), and my partner Ryan King agreed (he had been there earlier and seen the afternoon stuff). A mosh pit of dancing women even started up ý" it was like they had hypnotized everyone with their rock/ country sound.

After the 30's, Ryan and I hurried over to the Pour House for one more show -- Rock Solid was going to end our Friday night. Admittedly, by this time I was a bit un-sober, but still had enough sense to keep up with my duties as a journalist.

Although the Pour House was as hot as Britney Spears, I was able to keep my composure while snapping about 30 pictures of one of the most exciting bands in town.

Needless to say, the Solid kicked arse and even had people outside that couldn't get in (21 and over show) watching intently ý" like Chase Wright, guitarist from Fists of Phoenix, another area band.

"I've been to about ten Solid shows now," said Wright from outside the Pour House while playing a perfect air guitar. "I am a huge fan. I am a big local music fan in general. Wait, don't I know you?"

All in all, I have to say that every band did a great job on the opening day and helped the City of Roses music festival back up its claim of 'still rockin'.

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"Gettin' drunk with the monkey!": Saturday at City of Roses

By Ryan King

If you were stumbling around the City of Roses Music Festival, you probably noticed an attraction other than the music. Standing approximately two feet tall, covered in brown hair and dressed in red and blue clown-like suit, this attraction was alive. LeRoy was his name, and he is a Capuchin monkey.

I first encountered LeRoy on Friday, when I had my picture taken with him. Had I not already planned on attending the festival Saturday, the prospect of seeing LeRoy again would have certainly provided the impetus to return.

I arrived at 2 p.m. Saturday at the Independence stage, where This, Is a Virtue were playing. Their style of music, hardcore, isn't something I normally listen to, but they're fun to watch and listen to live, and on this day the interesting visuals extended into the crowd. Members of the crowd seemed to be doing some sort of kung-fu type dance, just moving around wildly -- almost monkey-like.

The dancing seemed to be a modified version of the traditional mosh pit, but here apparently no one gets hurt since there isn't a lot of touching, just a lot of undelivered blows. That changed, though when the band's bass player Will Perry jumped into the crowd, whereupon bodies went flying and collided with one another, and I stepped back.

After the show, Perry explained "hardcore" dancing, saying that it acts as a stress reliever for the crowd and allows them to express themselves. The "no one gets hurt" philosophy I thought existed vanished when I noticed a bleeding wound above Perry's left eye.

"I was playing, and decided to jump in the pit and I got hit in the eye," he said. "It didn't hurt, you just need to watch where you're going." So that's how they avoid each other so well while flying around wildly, I thought to myself.

Following the set by the next band Poor King ˜ who played metal music with only one guitar and drums -- and were good at it ˜ I walked over to the Themis stage where Prom Night Heroes were playing, and also where LeRoy was appearing next to the concession stand.

Talking with his handler, Kelly Payne, I found out that LeRoy is 6 years old, and they travel around with him all over the country, staying in Texas during the winter months. LeRoy's favorite food is peanut butter sandwiches, she said.

"What about the crust?" I asked. "Crust on," she replied. In the meantime, LeRoy ambled around as monkeys do, letting out the occasional yelp as people gave him quarters and he in turn placed his hand in theirs for just a moment. I gave him a dollar before I left, and he gave me a photograph of himself. It was touching.

The next band on the Themis stage was Richard's Nixon. I had seen them once before and was impressed with how wide-ranging their covers and originals were. For instance, they cover "Vega-Tables" by the Beach Boys, play an original song that's a tribute song to the Ramones with a chorus that goes R-A-M-O-N-E-S, and also routinely whip out covers of the Beatles and Nirvana. Now that's awesome.

On this night they didn't seem to be as "on": their set started late because of difficulties with the microphones and while they were playing there were problems with the before mentioned microphones. Seemingly out of frustration, guitarist and singer Gary Graf made a comment about LeRoy, asking if everyone paid to get a picture yet.

When asked about how his night had gone after Richard Nixon's show, Graf said "It sucks, the sound guy's deaf."

"You mentioned LeRoy, the monkey, on stage. Have you been to see him yet?" I asked.

"No, but we're going to get a group picture. Hopefully he's had all of his shots," Graf said. I told him that LeRoy had no teeth, which would mean that, if bitten, the skin probably wouldn't be broken. I'm not sure if that was comforting or not.

Later that night on the Themis stage was the heavily anticipated burrito-eating contest sponsored by Burritoville. The contest drug on for about forty-five minutes, making it hardly the meat, lettuce and tortilla-flying free-for-all that I expected. But Trapt tickets were promised to the winner, keeping contestants chained to their seats and me wondering if a better prize could be had, and if so what it should be. A date with LeRoy, of course.

"I'm stuffed," said burrito-eating contest winner Cody Bell just after winning. In his post burrito-binge state he also said that winning Trapt tickets was pretty sweet; he had heard them on the radio before and was pumped about it.

The prospect of a date with LeRoy didn't seem as appealing to him, however.

"A date with LeRoy is pretty sweet," said Bell, using his favorite sentence filler. "But Trapt is better. That would be a tough decision."

Oh well, burrito beggars shouldn't be choosers, I guess.

My night was put to a close with performances by Drivin' Rain and Emaciation. The crowd in front of the Independence Stage was the largest I had seen, and at this point many members of the audience were inebriated, to say the least.

In between cries of "don't talk to him, he's on medication," I approached a dancing man who seemed to be the center of attention in the picnic-table area near the stage.

His dance was kind of similar to the hardcore dancing I had observed earlier in the day, minus all coordination and what little grace hardcore dancing has. Really, he was just flailing around like he was going through withdraw from some very awesome and powerful drug.

The man, Scott Kent, described to me the dance he was doing as consisting of all the styles he knew, which explained to me its jerkiness, as he was probably just shifting styles. His favorite part of the festival was getting drunk, he said.

And when asked about LeRoy the monkey?

"I love animals," he screamed through his haze. "Gettin' drunk with the monkey!"

Following that exchange, Drivin' Rain began to play and demonstrated exactly why they've been having so much success lately. They play tight, they cater to the crowd, and people love their music. Their songs are undeniably catchy, and lack much of the cheese factor that often comes with hair metal.

By the time Emaciation took the stage, I was ready to be floored by something after standing all day. It ended up happening. I was hit by their chunks of riffage and their evil scowls. At one point the crowd was asked, "Are you ready for some metal?" by the band. Even though I already took my dietary supplement earlier, a second dose of essential minerals did nothing but please me and my body.

As Emaciation's set ended and the crowd began to disperse, I began to think of next year's festival. It will be back, I'm sure, and perhaps even be three days next time, although two seemed to work out o.k. Most likely there will be some new bands looking to win over new audiences, and the dancers, drunken or not, will return to do their thing. And maybe next year if you eat a burrito in a minute and a half you'll win a date with LeRoy. Or maybe that's asking too much.