By CRYSTAL K. WIEBE
After a solid-drunk weekend, I wasn’t looking to party down again on Monday night. But it’s hard to turn down a shot of Jameson when a member of Flogging Molly is offering.
What else would you do with an Irish punk band besides drink?
On the night before Flogging Molly’s sold-out show at the Beaumont Club, this Buckle Bunny ran into the band at Karma, where the Monday night special is two-for-one you-call-its.
It’s a favorite special of my partner in rock and roll mayhem, the lovely Double-Down Dixie. She’s the one who spotted Flogging Molly – incidentally, her favorite band – when they showed up unexpectedly at the bar. And she made us a shot-buying friend out of guitarist Dennis Casey when he needed a little help getting the bartender’s attention.
Over the next couple of hours, Casey insisted the wedding band on his left hand was actually his father’s, gave us romantic advice (“He’s so obviously not the right man for you!”), bought us several beers, offered a back-cracking demonstration and promised us free Flogging Molly DVDs and lots more fun at the concert tomorrow.
Photo by Marc Shank
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Sadly, our chance meeting didn’t translate into a stage door-entry into the show.
With some other friends and countless other freezing souls, Dixie and I stood in line for a good hour on Tuesday night, the sleet matting our hair and the cold numbing our toes. Having recently endured a similar experience at the Beaumont Club before Mars Volta played, I began to wonder why the venue can’t figure out how to get people in the door faster. We got in line around 8:30 -- more than an hour after doors opened. And yet, we still missed all but the last few songs of the second opener. People who got in line after us were lucky to catch anyone but the headliner.
Unlike Dixie, I don’t regularly listen to Flogging Molly. Discovering the band was my favorite part of my first Warped Tour experience. The combination of traditional Irish music with punk rock spirit amazed me – and inspired happy dancing all around. Yet, I’m a very casual fan. I long ago misplaced my copy of Drunken Lullabies – it’s the kind of music I prefer to experience live or in a pub. But after the foot-stomping, fist-shaking good time I had in the crowd on Tuesday, I might just look for it or pick up the forthcoming album that Casey was so eager to tell us about.
I can see why fans get so hardcore about Flogging Molly. The music is aggressively joyful – good for dancing or moshing – as well as sweetly sad in that “Danny Boy” kind of way. Because of that, the appeal crosses generations. I saw 12-year-olds and grandmas bopping through the crowd on Fat Tuesday and also an endless number of fat white guys in green shirts.
I was shocked – and a little glad – that more people didn’t stick around for the after party. Although Dixie and I were among the few who got to swig the band’s extra beers, the DJ Rico-hosted dance-a-thon on the Beaumont floor wasn’t private. Early in the night, someone announced that was where the band would be hanging after the show.
Of course, an abundance of superfans might have gotten in my way as I tried to dance with Flogging Molly’s fedora-wearing bass player, Nathen Maxwell. It was hard enough trying to get between him and one mohawked little punk chick. She seemed to be interested in more than just dancing with the handsome Maxwell. I can understand why – he’s one of those pale-faced punks-in-suits with tattoos on his hands and an easy smile. But I was just trying to stay out of Dixie’s way, while she chatted it up with Casey.
And I’m glad I let her. Because she got from him a promise that we'll never have to wait in line for a Flogging Molly show again. Well, she won’t have to. I didn’t get his number.
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