Weekly Volcano Blogs: Walkie Talkie Blog

Posts made in: August, 2006 (90) Currently Viewing: 41 - 50 of 90

August 11, 2006 at 3:09pm

The Factory VIP Party review

Thefactoryone Thefactorycouple Thefactorygroup Thefactorydance Thefactoryowners Thefactorychick Thefactorywanda The Factory arrived to south Tacoma yesterday, throwing a huge VIP party to a group of very happy revelers. 
Said one guy at the bar, “Free?”  Replied General Manager Jeff Jordan, “Yup.  Just remember to take care of your bartenders!”
While it seemed odd to some that a throng of young hot dancing ones (female) appeared to be hired eye-candy (“Don't guys see through that?” Questioned a puzzled guest) the crowd seemed too happy to ask any more questions. I heard the odd “oooooh” and “aaaaaaaaah” over the super-cool, well-used pool tables on the catwalk, and I heard a few people wondering about the ice sculpture on the planet's longest bar (err, Pierce County's,) which was a tequila luge thing that the shot would be poured through, steadily gaining speed and frigidity.
Whether through liquid inhibition-lubrication or through the irresistible sounds of the band whose name nobody seems to remember (but everyone seemed to enjoy), the crowd was rump-shaking and rug-cutting well into the evening.
It looks like owners Max Messmer and Jeff Jordan are well on their way to success in their official opening this evening, though all bets would be that the drinks won't be on the house.
Go check 'em out for yourself as they are officially open at 5602 S Washington St., just off South Tacoma way. For more information, call (253)474-1189. â€" Jessica Corey-Butler

Filed under: Club News, Food & Drink, Tacoma,

August 13, 2006 at 10:57am

Chihuligans invade downtown Tacoma

Chihuligans813 The Chihuligans were a big hit. A group of about 15 Tacoma artists donned eye patches, curley wigs and black T-shirts with the word "Chihuligans" silk screened on the front. They met at Rampart gallery and walked down to ride the rail to the plaza for the Chihuly In Tacoma festival. First they walked around talking to people outside. They were asking people if they'd like to have thier picture taken with Chihuly for just $5. Which of course, they had no way to make happen unless people just wanted to have their picture taken with a Chihuligan. Then they entered the glass museum without paying by just ignoring the door person. They somehow got away with it. They went into the gift shop and must have made a quite an impression because they were stopped by a PR person for the event and asked to come in and make a special appearance from the balcony overlooking the hot shop where Chihuly and his crew were working in front of a live audience. So they agreed and did the walk through and waved to
Chuhuly and all of the people. Just after they left the building they were stopped again by another employee who ran out after them. He said Dale wanted to meet them and have a picture taken. Dale's no dummy. He knows a good PR opportunity when he sees one. So they were escorted back inside again. This time they had to each sign a release form for the use of their picture. Then they were taken down on to the hotshop floor where they posed with Dale for a picture. â€" Angela Jossy

Filed under: Tacoma,

August 13, 2006 at 10:50pm

Natasha run

Natashaboot Natashamonsoon My dream date with Weekly Volcano columnist Natasha actually began on Thursday night at The Factory VIP party. We mutually realized how fascinating we were and wanted to talk without the accompaniment of loud guitars.  At Asado afterward, we started firming up details for our "wild night" Saturday, only we were stymied as we were met up by her friends the cool Matador dudes and I had to head home to my own man and kid.
Saturday we had planned to meet at one of the many beer gardens on Pacific Avenue for Showcase Tacoma- because nothing says "appreciate art" like "beer" but wound up at the Swiss with Bluecifer (and Chesty Meeow, on the phone a fair amount of the time.)
When the Kry crowd started coming through with their very boutique clothes and fabulous shoes, we decided another venue was on-order. I was severely under shod.
Tempest Lounge was our next stop, knowing we could chat there.  Bluecifer, Natasha, and I were joined by El Presidente of the Mexican Justice League, and we all shared in the gastro-orgasm that was the Tempest Chocolate Chip Cookie. 
Since Natasha was on a quest to show this newbie Volcano staffer a great time via her favorite places, we hopped on yet again to the Monsoon Room, "It's very Bobble Tiki," She promised.  The place is teeny and oh so hip with a mojito that had me at "Hello" and some of the coolest revelers on the planet.
When you travel with the glitterati, though, you don't ever get complacent with one location, so of course we were on again to Natasha's next favorite spot, Magoo's, where Chesty Meeow herself joined up with us and whisked Bluecifer into a quiet corner while the coolest ever barkeep kept my water coming (and muddled a mean lemon drop!) and a Retro Diva promised to take me on a vintage tour of Tacoma, so I can add some vintage hip to my wardrobe without looking like a total dork (and educate my fine readers in the process.)
I arrived at my own home at 4:13 a.m.  Time flies when you travel with Natasha. She is the party, with her warm and happy self, boots and all.
I'm off to catch up on all that lost sleep now. - Jessica Corey-Butler

Filed under: Club Hopping,

August 14, 2006 at 11:53am

Martin Denny at the Catbox Lounge?

Bobble Tiki has been on the mainland long enough to let his drum interpretation skills slide.  But if Bobble Tiki hears right, the pounding says the Catbox Lounge at 5431 South Tacoma Way is going tiki. 
Tiki?
Could the Catbox be filled with pu-pu platters, tiki torches, erupting volcanoes and wahines on the dancing pole?
Bobble Tiki will keep an ear to the drums. â€" Bobble Tiki

Filed under: Bobble Tiki, Club News, Tacoma,

August 15, 2006 at 7:13am

Teenage Harlets play Maggie O'Toole's tonight

Teenageharlets San Francisco's Teenage Harlets are neither teen-agers nor harlets, but they rock like teen-age harlets, whatever a harlet is.  Since 1999, their classic, snot-nosed, garage punk 'n' roll has exemplified their sense of civic duty by administering a shot in the arm and a swift kick in the springs to Bobble Tiki's working-class doldrums.
Although every punk band under the sun would claim the same victory, it's the Teenage Harlet's enlivening balance of classic punk; tongue-in-cheek, rather than menacing, posture; and playful surf band-like tales of girls, drunken nights and heartache that set them apart. Not ones to mistake garage credibility with lack of talent, their songs are sincere and well-crafted. And the go-for-broke energy level of their live show quite simply puts many a punk band - local or otherwise - to shame. In July they released Up The Fixx, their eighth CD, and will showcase it tonight at Maggie O'Toole's with Flexx Bronco, and Sept. 13 with The Phenomenauts and River City Rebels at Hell's Kitchen's all-ages crowd. Aug. 15, 9 p.m., Maggie O’Toole’s, 6006 100th St. S.W., Lakewood, (253) 584-3276. â€" Bobble Tiki

August 15, 2006 at 8:13am

Touch a buffet

The Southern Touch (56th and Orchard) in Tacoma will add a lunch buffet beginning Sept. 5.  The goal is to provide items not on the regular menu including a variety of rotating casseroles.  In the meantime, stop by for excellent chicken dinners as well as one of the bet burgers in town. â€" Jason de Paul

Filed under: Food & Drink,

August 15, 2006 at 10:59am

Stanley & Seafort's new menu

Stanley & Seafort's Steak, Chop & Fish House (115 E. 34th, Tacoma) has a new lunch and dinner menus with a few firsts for the South Sound including Kobe Beef Meatloaf and the Cherry Martini.  New Chef Mark Randolph has returned the Broadway Pea Salad to the menu (a huge crowd favorite), plus added Hawaiian Baby Back Ribs and a Maple Chicken Salad. 
There is also complimentary valet parking in the front.  Sounds like I need to visit. - Jason de Paul

Filed under: Food & Drink, Tacoma,

August 15, 2006 at 11:32pm

Sexy third Tuesday at Tempest

Tempestblog The sign in the bathroom says, “Reading is sexy.”  This is especially true when the subject matter is a banned book about 17-year-old lesbians.
The book we are discussing at tonight's Banned Book Club at Tacoma's Tempest Lounge is "Annie on My Mind," published in 1982 by Nancy Garden.  The subject matter is handled delicately, and has a sort of tangibly wispy tone to it that makes it seem real and normal.  That “normalcy” is what seems to have gotten it banned in school libraries the late '80s, and is one of the topics we’ve assembled to discuss.
“We” are Matthew, a teacher who drinks beer through our discussion; Michelle, a lounge owner who has a juice late into our discussion; Sara, a teacher with wicked cool shoes who drinks a Nevada on ice; Kristina, a relative newbie to the area who works in a library at Fort Lewis who abstains from drinking; and Sweet Pea, King’s Books spokesperson who drinks a Nevada “up;” and me, a reader, writer, and wine drinker.
Once our discussion dwindles down and Michelle has to return to work, Sweet Pea makes his announcements, which include the news of a spelling bee for adults at King’s Books Sept. 7, 6:30 p.m.  He also mentions a banned book week beginning at the next Tempest Banned Books Club meeting, which will be Sept. 19. Read "The Giver" by Lois Lowry and go to enjoy smart conversation, luscious drinks, and half-off appetizers.  Because really, reading is sexy. â€" Jessica Corey-Butler

August 17, 2006 at 6:49am

Sleater-Kinney bids farewell

Mattmug_4 It's a rare night when I come face to face with Eddie Vedder and the next morning the memory is only a small, unimportant footnote. There's a bar inside the Crystal Ballroom called Lola's. From the floor you can find it by its fluorescent sign. Vedder was exiting Lola's on Saturday, beer in hand. I was entering. We were both there for Sleater-Kinney's final show.

It was the rarest of nights.

Vedder, of course, was an invited guest of Sleater-Kinney, while I was merely a guy with a ticket, but on this night we were the same. Vedder and I were just fans, crossing paths in the hallway, there to pay our respects to the most important group rock 'n' roll has produced in the last ten years; there to witness history happening right before our eyes. We both knew.  Everyone knew.  A sold out, sweaty, heavyhearted crowd packed the Crystal Ballroom Friday, Aug. 11, and Saturday, Aug. 12, for the final scenes, of the final act, of Sleater-Kinney.  It was a love story. It was a comedy. It was a tragedy. It was history.

What started Friday night, with a triumphant and celebratory two-hour set, highlighted by Carrie Brownstein's expert guitar abuse, Corin Tucker's perfected shrills, and Janet Weiss' fluid and natural pummeling, ended Saturday when Sleater-Kinney, fighting back tears and choking out lyrics, played the last song of their last encore. 

The band announced their "indefinite hiatus" in July.  Shortly after, they announced plans for a final show at Portland's Crystal Ballroom.  When tickets sold out in a nanosecond, a second show was added. Hardcore fans had been waiting with strange depressed anticipation ever since. 

For better or worse, the wait was over.

Friday night, after their set, Sleater-Kinney ran off stage, hugging, high-fiving fans, and feeding on the energy of a crowd of screaming and stomping devotees -- not applauding their two jaw-dropping encores, but their entire career. Saturday the mood was heavier.

"You know how you wish you could have seen the Beatles or Jimi Hendrix or Led Zeppelin or the Who with Keith Moon? Well, I am very fortunate and extremely grateful to live in a time when I can see Sleater-Kinney play live," said Vedder during a brief two-song opening set, his trademark mumble making it difficult to discern the words. Pearl Jam's front-man performed a folksy acoustic number, full of predictable hate towards our administration, then produced a ukulele and invited Weiss on stage for the moving duet "You Belong to Me."  Their friendship was visible.

No one was there for Vedder.  The crowd wanted Sleater-Kinney. At around 10:30 Saturday night, the band took the stage together one last time.

Stage lights illuminated each member, as though sent from a higher power, penetrating the Crystal Ballroom’s ceiling.  The band blasted into "The Fox," from what figures to be their final masterpiece, 2005's The Woods. While each member of Sleater-Kinney is individually amazing, it's the creative power of mixing the three explosive ingredients that sets them apart. It's the combination of Brownstein, Weiss, and Tucker that will be most sorely missed and hardest to swallow -- Tucker's razor sharp delivery and dropped down guitar pushing urgency, Weiss' drumming setting the pace and giving things shape, and Brownstein's guitar heroics and snarling, seductive, pixie backup vocals throwing a wicked uppercut, lifting Sleater-Kinney above other bands of their generation, and placing them securely among the greatest of all time.

Brownstein does things with a guitar once thought only capable from a man â€" and does them on par with men like Pete Townshend, or Neil Young at his most ferocious, or any other penis ever to pick up an axe. No one has ever approached singing rock 'n' roll like Corin Tucker, and if they had, very few would have pulled it off. Janet Weiss could whip the shit out of Tommy Lee, Travis Barker, and that guy with one arm from Def Leppard â€" and do it playing harmonica and keeping three-fourths time.  In terms of talent, very few bands have ever matched Sleater-Kinney.  In terms of integrity, even fewer have. They created the model for rock success without selling out. In terms of impact, it's too early to grasp the full scope, but my guess is quite a few girls picked up a guitar thanks to Sleater-Kinney. My guess is a lot a boys did too. I know for sure none of them will ever duplicate what this band did. 

Saturday, through a little over two hours, Sleater-Kinney brought everything they had to the table. They played heavily from The Woods, and 2002's One Beat -- their most mature albums -- but also served up older favorites from All Hands On the Bad One and Dig Me Out, to the delight of the bouncing thousands, testing the limits of the Ballroom’s spring loaded floor. Never has a more appreciative band played to a more appreciative audience. Sleater-Kinney played every song like it was their last.

Probably because it was.

The day after the show I sit in saddened retrospection. I also sit content in the fact I saw Sleater-Kinney at their very best, two last times.  Thumbing through the reviews from papers all around the country, the phrase "end of an era" seems to be an overwhelming sentiment.  Understandable, yes, but to reduce Sleater-Kinney to figureheads of some sort of era is to understate them.  To say their final performance was an end of an era implies a simplifying connection between the band and a period of time, or movement.  They were much more than that. They weren't simply part of the post-Nirvana, post-grunge period. They weren't simply feminists. They weren't simply DIY.  They weren't just chicks with guitars.  Sleater-Kinney was one of the greatest rock bands ever. Period.

What that means is, while the members of Sleater-Kinney have played their last notes together on stage, nothing died Saturday night â€" not an era, and not a band.  Years from now little boys will be daydreaming of playing like Brownstein. Sleater-Kinney's records will take their spot among the all-time classics.  Stories of the band at their peak (last night) will only grow and become more legendary.  Time will straighten things out and the facts will be clear.  The band will be missed, but the Sleater-Kinney era is far from dead.

As the band hugged on stage at the conclusion of their last song, sharing their private moment with everyone in attendance, I headed towards the bright fluorescent sign for Lola's, which had been blocked off and was where the band would escape backstage after being ushered away from the masses.  On Friday, they'd stopped for high-fives and handshakes, and tonight I wanted a chance at touching one of my heroes. I weaved through the crowd just in time to meet Sleater-Kinney as they hurriedly turned down the stairs.  There were no handshakes on Saturday, only tears. Each member passed me, each wiping her eyes and crying. I fell dead in my tracks, and simply started clapping.  When I recall Sleater-Kinney's final show, it's this image burned in my memory â€" the image of Brownstein, Tucker, and Weiss heading offstage one final time.  This is the picture I'll remember, not my brief encounter with Mr. Vedder.

It was the rarest of nights. It was history. â€" Matt Driscoll

August 17, 2006 at 7:15am

Third Thursday wine walk

Tonight’s Tacoma Wine-wobble â€" er, Third Thursday Art Walk â€" will have many more downtown Tacoma stops along the way in one convenient location.  The shops of Sanford and Son will be included and will provide pinot grigio and gris.  A host of other local shops will be involved too, including Blu Wolf in the theater district, Over the Moon, Dame Lola, Ruby Collection, and Fibers Etc in Opera Alley, as well as Metropolitan Veterinary Hospital toward the Stadium District.
The Third Thursday Art Walk will be held tonight, 5-8 p.m., throughout downtown Tacoma.
See you (hic) there! â€" Jessica Corey-Butler

Filed under: Arts, Food & Drink, Tacoma,

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