The Brig Band

Twelve, fifteen years ago, I used to see a ton of music. There wasn’t a barrier I wouldn’t cross in this city to see a band. I didn’t care if it was Lincoln, the 405, or Highland, alright I never crossed Highland, I sought out music often. Ten years ago I started hanging out at O’ Brien’s. I could tell that my desire to see live music was fading when I noticed that the only time I saw a band was when I would use the restroom at O’ Brien’s. (No, there isn’t a busker in the shitter; a few empty glasses, occasional vomit in the no flush urinal, and the smell of death on a hot, summer day, but no busker.) In fact, we have live music five nights a week that I only hear through a curtain while I’m at the bar, or through the floor while I’m in the office. Call it a streak, but Monday I sat in the back room for a few songs, and Tuesday I went to the Brig, all for live music.

Monday night was good times. My buddy Craig showed up with his friend Neil, who is moving out here. Craig mentioned that Neil works for ESPN, but I didn’t realize that he’s one of the anchors on Sports Center. You wouldn’t know it by the car I drive, the way I dance, or the classes I take at the gym, but I’m pretty butch. In general, I’m a dude, but I’m not the kind of dude who engages in fantasy football, which, by the way, is Dungeons and Dragons for Jocks who used to beat up on kids who played Dungeons and Dragons. Now, I’m sure there are guys who would’ve shot their load knowing they were at the same table as Neil Everett, but I didn’t really know who he was. He’s a super cool guy, but my knowledge of Sports Center ended with Chris Berman. In any case, the three of us enjoyed a great night at the bar. Turns out Neil gives shout outs to his friend’s businesses on Sports Center. Guess I’ll have to tune in and see if he says, “Kobe drives the lane, O’ Brien’s on Main.” That’d be sweet. During a trip to the bathroom, Craig stumbled upon the band. He dragged us back there and we checked out a couple of songs. One of the guys was playing a cello that had no body. It looked like it was built by Dali, trippy. This woman sang “Jolene” and killed it. Alas, I should have left after that.

I’ve heard about the Brig Band for a while. Kenny, a friend from the gym, is in the band. They’ve been playing every Tuesday night for seven years. The Brig is a funny place. It used to be a dive that I hated. The one night I had a good time, I walked outside to see that someone had bent the antenna on my car. I thought parking in The Brig lot outside the front door was safe. Silly me. They finally transformed the stab-atorium, shit hole into a seriously groovy bar. Since Craig and Neil were out, I had them meet me there. Earlier in the evening, I was told that I had to get there by ten; otherwise, it would be way too packed. I got there at eleven-thirty and was amazed. In the words of Craig Shapiro, “This is one of the top places.” The place was packed. There’s no stage so the band: keyboards, bass, sax/trombone, drums, and DJ plays in the middle of the space. I was impressed with the eclectic crowd. I thought it was pretty busy, but Kenny told me that it was so crowded last week that he had trouble getting back to his keyboards after the break. They’re a free form jazz band led by DJ Peyote Cody. When the band took a break, the DJ kept the tunes going and people were cutting a rug. It was amazing to see a crowd like this on a week night.

I left a packed bar at midnight and returned to a quiet one. I know their Tuesday crowd didn’t happen over night. They’ve been playing the same night for seven years. But to have a week night like that is huge. They had a packed house and three bartenders. There are times when I feel that we are in the only game in town. It didn’t feel that way last night. If you get a chance, I highly recommend that you check out the Brig Band.