Joe Hurley: Rogue’s March with Kristeen Young and Tony Visconti
The series of events leading up to and including this night reads more or less like a Robert Altman film. Hey, maybe I can sell this and make a blockbuster indie-flick. I hear they’re in fashion now. Harvey Weinstein … if you read this … give me a call.
Thursday 6/24:
I was at a party for the opening of Sláinte in NYC as was a gentleman named Joe Hurley. He was playing that Saturday at the Baggot Inn (82 W. 3rd Street, NYC).
At some point in the night, as I was enjoying the party atmosphere, the responsibility of of promoting the gig by handing out passes fell upon me. This was before I had even officially met Joe or really knew anything at all about him. But I’m a team player so I hand them out without a complaint.
I noticed Kristeen Young and Tony Visconti listed as a special guests for the gig. This piqued my curiosity as I’ve been a fan of Tony’s work for many years.
Friday 6/25:
My blonde Strat, needed tremolo replacement surgery. Sorta like a breast reduction for guitar (except I prefer to think of my guitar as a boy since it is so phalic). The fancy-ass Floyd Rose was just not cutting it for me so, after 10 years, I finally brought the old boy to Jim at the Guitar Bar in Hoboken to get an American Standard replacement.
Oh it may seem as though I’ve gone off on a tangent here but this does tie together with my story …
Saturday 6/26:
I made my way into NYC by means of my buddy Nelson’s offer to drive. When we got to the bar, I was sitting with my back to the door when I heard Nelson yell out with a tone of familiarity, “Hey Jim!”
I turn around and there is Jim from the Guitar Bar walking through the door with his guitar. At this point I’m thinking, well this is the Village, I’m sure he’s got a gig in the area and just stopped in for a drink.
Well, not only was he playing at the Baggot, he was in fact playing with Joe Hurley. He joked, “Good thing I didn’t bring your Strat to the gig.” Then he asked what I was doing there. I quipped, “I’m just gonna dog your ass until my guitar is finished!”
We laughed and I proceeded to tell him of the little Robert Altman film I just at that moment realized was living. Then off he went to set up after confirming that Tony Visconti (and his bass) would in fact be joining the band for a bit.
I hadn’t been in The Baggot Inn since it was the Sun Mountain Cafe almost 13 years ago. It’s always been a cool place to hang and to see music. You walk in and there is the long narrow bar on your right, followed by a small area of seating at the end of the bar and off to the left a bit. The performance area is a few steps below bar level and remarkably roomy. Plenty of tables and chairs to sit and a decent size stage area for performers.
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| images courtesy baggotinn.com | |
The plot of my movie continues …
Nelson and I find our way to a couple of seats. A gentleman comes up and asks if we could move because we were blocking the views of a couple of his lady friends. He offered to buy us a round of drinks if we just moved over a bit. I said it was OK, not to worry about the drinks since I’d be getting up to take pictures anyway.
At one point I walked to the bar, ordered a drink and paid. I had already forgotten the offer from this stranger. As I sipped my cocktail, he tapped me and said, “Hey, did you pay for that?” “Well, um … yeah,” I replied. He looked miffed and grumbled off. It was at this time that he handed Nelson $20.00 and one of the waitresses came to me and said to see her for our next drink order, it was paid for.
All I could think was man … I gotta stand in the way of someone’s lady friends at bars more often! But … alas … this kinda thing never happens.
Fuck Everything! Shut Up and Drink!
To the stage we welcome Mr. Joe Hurley and Rogues March. A fine stew of punk, country and rock with a healthy dash of Emerald Isle spirit. The high energetic skill of the band blended nicely with the raw, at times humorous rasp of Hurley’s voice as in “Nice Irish Breakfast in a Greek Diner” and the NYC jukebox standard “Shut Up and Drink!”
 Joe |
 Joe & Tony |
Then came the moment I had been waiting for. With Tony Visconti on bass, Jeff White on drums and Kristeen Young on keys and vocals, the band performed several songs from Kristeen’s upcoming cd “X” and, to the delight of everyone, a couple of T-Rex faves.
 Kristeen & Joe |
 Kristeen & Jim |
Kristeen pounded with no mercy on those poor, defensless keys as she wailed her words with a force that pumped the night up a notch. So where does a girl from St. Louis get such an energetic big-city art-scene angnst anyway?
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Kristeen & Tony
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My apologies to Jeff for the lack of pix. It’s tough to get pix of drummers … all hidden away in the back like that … I tell ya … it’s just not fair.
I was lucky to spend a few moments outside the bar in conversation with Tony, Jeff and Kristeen. I enjoy meeting any artists that are intense and passionate about what they do.
I have to admit though I did gush a bit like a star struck schoolgirl. I just had to ask Tony if he would mind me giving him a Ya-Ne-Zniyoo CD. After all this this was a guy that produced some of my favorite albums ever including “Electric Warrior” by T.Rex and “Scary Monsters” by David Bowie. He graciously accepted. Oh I hope he likes it. See … now there I go getting all gushy again. Let me go put on my plaid skirt and bobbie socks …
Jeff and I discussed the difficulties of keeping a band together. And how he and Kristeen would very often play shows with just drums and keys. Of course my opinion on bands is this; If the material is strong it will hold up no matter what the line-up on stage may be.
The night ended with Kristeen giving me an advanced copy of “X” which, by the way rocks! My favorite tracks are “Cold Steal” and “Devil Girl”. Be sure to get it when it comes out.
Oh and the night would not be complete without the entrance of another character to add to my movie. A drunk guy who was fascinated with Kristeen’s makeup. Admittedly she has a wonderful uniqueness to her look that’s married perfectly to her sound and persona.
Anyway, this guy was specifically focusing on the interesting placement of lashes just below her lower lids which drew you into to her eyes.
“Whoa, what’s up with your lashes dude?” (yes calling a lady a dude is apparently proper drunkard etiquette)
She replied something to the effect of, “Nothing, they’re natural.”
“No way, really dude?”
To which I added, “That’s what happens when you grow up near a nuclear power plant.”
“Whoa! Wow! Really? Dude!”
Ya just can’t write dialogue like that!!
