by Albert A. on It's Monday night, and me and my pals are looking for somewhere we can shake it to the bass. We stopped at the Endup out of morbid curiosity, curious if it really is as sketch/gross/loud/classic as the stories say. Well, we never got in the door. The bouncer was rude, condescending, uncooperative, and demeaning. There was nobody else in line, just us--3 clean cut dudes and 2 gals (quite breezy gals, mind you). He turned his back on us while we tried to pay the cover. He made a big show of looking over our ID's. He told us to take two steps back so he could "do his job." By the time he asked to pat us down, we were all pretty uncomfortable. So we said no thanks and walked off. My friend heard him mutter something nasty under his breath as we left. I don't know what it was, but it was apparently nasty enough that it took the strength of three men to keep a Georgia gal from strutting back up to give him a piece of her mind. One star.
by Shawn A. on I'm surprised it's taken me this long to make it to Webster Hall. And even more surprised that what finally got me inside was a bizarre DVD release party for Boondock Saints II. Having seen and loved the first one, I thought it'd be a good time - but it turned out to be a bizarrely self indulgent wank fest, and I couldn't bail fast enough. The venue itself seemed fairly epic, with a lot of ornate trappings that lend and air of prestige and history to the place. While the ego at the event lived up to the surroundings, unfortunately the show itself did not. So I'll have to do my due diligence and return to rock another day.
