We last left Bob Husak and The Blakes perched in front of “Schwarzenegger classic” the rest of CMJ looming ahead of them.
And now the thrilling conclusion to “The Blakes in CMJ!“
The next morning I met up with Ashley Graham, our publicist, and we took the train to Manhattan to see some sights with Lars: Times Square, Rockefeller Plaza, St. Patrick’s Cathedral, etc. Garnet, Snow and B. Brown met us later on and we went through Central Park where we talked to a guy who was fishing for small-mouth bass in the Lake (which I don’t think has an official name). We found the building where John Lennon was living when he got shot, the Dakota. The very friendly doorman recounted the story to us and told us that Yoko still lives in the building. We later got some dinner at a great Italian place where Matt S. joined us. Afterwards we went back to the Dakota and talked up the doorman further and he gave us Yoko’s address, telling us she’d listen to a CD if we sent her one. Matt said he saw Roberta Flack enter the building but I missed it. The next day we went back to Gibson to pick up some guitars for our acoustic performance at Pianos. After we exited Gibson, it began pouring down rain and it became extremely difficult to find a cab that didn’t already have a fare. We eventually tracked one down and we made it to Pianos with little time to spare. The cab driver smelled bad and drove erratically, just like what Letterman says about NYC cabbies in his monologues. I used brushes for our set, which I all but destroyed. We played for about fifteen minutes. Our new promoter in the UK, Pat, was present and she seemed very excited about the prospect of getting us overseas. Patrick, our booking agent at Monterey Intl., was also on the scene, as well as Tara, our commercial radio promotion person, for lack of better terminology. They went with us to a lovely sushi place where we ate ravenously. Later that evening, the band and Brown stopped at a Dominican place in Williamsburg and drank El Presidente beer. I started dancing and some Dominicans laughed me out the door.
On Saturday we went to the day’s venue–the Cake Shop–early and set up for the show. The place filled up nicely and we played a short set. Legendary music critic Robert Christgau was in attendance, although he almost left before we played until he was convinced to stay by good old Matt. We stuck around and watched the next band, New Violators, who were from Norway. I went with Lars to world famous Katz’s Diner and got some potato pancakes, which are a Husak family specialty. Snow got ahold of some whiskey and was falling down in the street and pissing on mailboxes before long. On the subway back to Brooklyn, he started loudly imitating Schwarzenegger much to Garnet’s chagrin and the other passengers’ amusement. “Get to the chopper!” We stopped by the Dominican place again and had some excellent food and more El Presidente. We saw a giant lobster that the cooks had prepared. Snow got a good look at it and said it was the biggest he’d ever seen, and he’s from Maine. We partied all night at Doron’s with the Heavenly States cats, assorted cohorts, and Doron and Terry until we left for JFK at 6:30 am. The plane ride back was a dull one for me because I can’t sleep on any type of moving vehicle and TV got old fast (I also get sick if I try to read). I forgot to mention that NYC was very hot and humid in classic Indian summer fashion, and also trash bags littered the streets and rats ran rampant. All that unpleasantry aside, I greatly enjoyed the city and it made me realize what an isolated backwater Seattle is.