BMP will be the death of me
A recap of the evening's festivities, more or less
by John O'Neill
What felt like dawn turned out to be nearly noontime. All the
vital stats of consciousness were accounted for like a pilot's post-flight
checklist. Headache -- check. Queasy stomach -- check. Dry, sore
eyes -- check. I tottered to the fridge for something, anything, to help
irrigate the arid desert that was once my running, babbling mouth. It was a
long, punishing walk. The signs pointed to one thing: the morning after the
Worcester Phoenix Best Music Poll party. And what a night it was. After
reflection and Alka Seltzer, it's our belief it went something like this
. . .
Things started nicely enough; the Lucky Dog was already starting to pack up by
8:30, when the young guns from Red Mercury and Critical Condition picked up
their plaques (for Best Local New Act and for Best Local Punk Act,
respectively). They were stoked, and we were just as stoked in return -- they
were a happy reminder of having life by the nads, long before hopes and dreams
were cashed in for a paycheck and a marginal health plan. Mike Duffy picked up
his award for Best Local Solo Act (after initially asking the Phoenix if
our invite to play was a put-on), and serenaded the crowd with his brand of
suburban, househusband acoustic fare. Duffy reported it's the first thing he's
won since a 1968 church fair. Can a Red Sox World Championship be far off?
Celebrity sightings 9:30 p.m.: the T&G's number-one man
of action, Scott McClennan; Orcaphat Records honcho Colin Butler; former Iron
Horse publicist Sean Glennon.
Mingo picked up his award for Best Local Rap Act -- while friend and 3rd Degree
label partner Billy Pain (also up for the award) looked on. Right after, the
Shods were up. They played the kick-off last year and wanted to play it this
year, but things got fouled up. They jumped on this bill to warm up the crowd
for the Wormtown rockers; and, happily, they ripped the Dog a new one. Turns
out, since last year's gig, they lost a guitarist, got a guitarist, added a
keyboard player, and went from being a good band to being a great band. Plus,
anybody who covers the Dead Boys and the Real Kids in the same set without
looking stupid is okay in our book.
After folks toweled down, Jim Reidy of Twang celebrated his band's coronation
as the Best Local Folk Act by sharing individual packets of "Twang" lemon-lime
candy with the adoring masses. Tart, but not too sour, the sugar pick-me-ups
were all we needed before Huck's set.
Celebrity sightings 11 p.m.: Billy Pain speeding away from the
Lucky Dog; two decent looking strippers from the Crystal Palace; an ad rep with
a stack of free drink tickets (nothing will make you a celeb faster than free
booze); and a guy who looked a lot like that singer from Ratt.
The few minutes prior to Huck's set (they also took home Best Local Pop Act and
Best Local Recording awards) was also the Worcester Phoenix's finest
moment: the unveiling of the new mascot, "Ralphie the Phoenix phoenix."
The newest and most popular member of the Worcester office's staff, the
winged-one got his name after being discovered hours before in Lucky Dog's side
alley, lying in a pool of his own vomit. Ralphie wowed the packed house with
his superior pecking ability, wing flapping, and his uncanny ability to dance
just like WCUW's Captain P.J. Fortunately, Huck were able to find the courage
to follow Ralphie and put on a heck of a set, which culminated in Clutch
Grabwell's horn section joining in. All the employees of the Wonder Bar go ape
-- we went to find the ad rep.
Celebrity sightings 12:15 a.m.: Lloyd Plumsted of Cafe Abba; a very
sweaty Captain P.J.; two beautiful strippers; and Ed, the bartender from
Breen's.
It was so hot and happenin' the club's back door needed to be propped open to
let in fresh air -- still the Wormtown faithful demanded more, and there was
plenty. Last year's coverboys, Clutch Grabwell, defended their turf by taking
home a second consecutive award for Best Local Rock Act, and then steam-rolled
the audience with their massive R&B/heavy-rock attack. None was spared from
the power of the groove; and fannies shook like a communal Jell-O mold. It's
also about this time things became just a little bit fuzzy, though we made sure
to take notes.
Celebrity sightings 1:05 a.m.: Walter and Valerie Crockett; the two
most gorgeous strippers I've ever seen in my life; definitely that
singer from Ratt; and the guy who runs the sausage cart across the street.
Due to technical difficulties there was time to hang out on stage with Seven
Hill Psychos. They've just won Best Local Rapcore/Hardcore Act, and they
deserved it because they're great guys. So are the guys from the Shods. I just
met them, but I love those guys. And John Donovan, too. I love John Donovan!
He's such a great guy. Have a drink ticket, John, baby. I love everybody here!
Everybody is great guys. It's not every day you get to hang out with so many
people who are such great guys. Except for those two chicks from the strip club
-- they have some kinda attitude. You'd think they'd never seen a five dollar
bill before. Anyhoo, the crowd went spastic as 7HP tore the joint up. What's
more, they looked pretty cool -- especially because there were two of each of
them on stage. Where's my beer?
And just like that -- last call, show's over, and another glorious and
celebratory Worcester Phoenix Best Music Poll skidded to a halt.
We all stumbled into the night, knowing fun and "Twang" candy were had by all.
And nobody had more fun than a certain local music scribe. Or so I'm told.
Celebrity sightings 2:07 a.m.: two bouncers with strong grips; the
cab driver; and a less-than-amused girlfriend.