Dance Till You’re Dead… Or Heads Will Roll

In addition to, as a rebuttal to, or in opposition to, Andee’s Pushing and Shoving, I would like to state my claim.  Non-dancers suck just as much as violent dancers do.  Although pushers and shovers do inflict pain, bruises and much emotional distress, the non-dancers inflict a different kind of pain all their own, the pain of being boring.

It hurts me to see hipsters at a show, which would normally evoke bumping and grinding, conforming to the “hipsters rule guide”.  That is attempting to look cool and not care about anything even the music they like.  “Oh Ill just lean against this wall here, in my absurdly tight jeans and tattered shirt, and stare blankly at the stage as if I am thinking about something Sartre said once.”  Don’t get me wrong I have those jeans and that shirt but when the music moves me, THE MUSIC MOVES ME.

I am not afraid to bounce, shimmy and shake. In fact sometimes I literally can’t control my body.  Passion Pit makes me dance like I’m possessed. Be possessed people!

There are shows like, Matt and Kim and Passion Pit, where people do dance.  But I have been to shows that were painfully undanced, the poor band, standing there under the lights trying to rock out, only to see a crowd of people just standing.  DANCE god damn it!

There was lots of head bopping at Lemonheads, and toe tapping at Vampire Weekend, even whole body swaying at Margot and the Nuclear So and So’s but that is not good enough!  I want the whole enchilada minus the punching, pushing, biting, and chokeholds please.

So, next time you go to a show that is dance worthy, please for me, for the band, for your own health, DANCE!

Diary of A Band. Odessa Stair.

Diary of A Band. Odessa Stair.

Odessa Stair consists of three men: Dan plays bass and has lived off of Ramen noodles and day-old pretzels for the past two months; Pat drums like a mutant, and he drinks like one, too; and then there’s me, Steve. I play guitar, sing, and am currently selling my possessions for a living.

As a member of Odessa Stair, I am privy to a lot of fringe benefits, like being in the best fucking band in the world. We will rip your goddamn hair out and you will beg for an encore. Put us up against any band and we will tear them to shreds. We write songs that sound like Herman’s Hermits on PCP. You know that whole thing about the dinosaurs being wiped out by a big-ass meteorite? Yeah, that was us.

If there’s something that I’ve learned since I started this band, it’s that bravado keeps you interested. With that last paragraph in mind, let’s look at some facts: As I write this, Odessa Stair’s only show was at some bar in the ‘burbs, and we often outnumbered the audience at the open mics we’ve played at. The band has only been around for 11 months, and the current line-up’s been around for three. We have a few poorly recorded songs on our MySpace and Facebook profiles. My guitar is a knock-off Flying-V from a company called “Rhapsoby” (not Rhapsody, but Rhapsoby) and my rinky-dink amp is on loan from my bassist’s girlfriend. We don’t have any mode of automotive transportation, and even if we did, Dan and I wouldn’t be able to drive it for various legal reasons. And Pat doesn’t have legs, or arms.

This evidence clearly supports the “Odessa Stair is just another “shitty band” theory. But none of these sobering realities damage the faith I have in Odessa Stair, my bandmates, and myself. I am fully convinced that we’re writing the best songs being written and playing them better than anyone else could. That’s how every band worth their salt should feel. Why bother starting a band if you’re not going to at least try to be the best?

And now, thanks to the fine people at Hipsters Drop Pants For Food, I get to blow smoke up your ass every week in this band diary! Read it, enjoy it, and if you don’t want the articles to consist of “I haven’t eaten in three days,” come to our shows, buy our crap, and send us money.

~Steve