06 December 2006
Best of 2006: Midnight Shows at Tonic
by Cicero Jones and Kevo, fans
tonic nyc
It is upon entering the world of the show that many our age find freedom from all else. They feel the power of the music, move in ways not normally comfortable when in less forgiving space, and find peace in their souls. Sometimes it's just good music; other times, the confluence of friends beats and time of day creates something else entirely. What we're trying to say - it's not always about the music. Sometimes it's about the place, other times it's the people. Sometimes it's the memory of a place that once was, can, should, or will be. Music for the atheist is his connection to the spiritual world that doesn't exist otherwise. All can agree that music is a language that can bring people of disparate experience together. The combination of different musical experiences has become the norm, and at Tonic they move it to the next step.
The midnight Tonic show is the Cicero Jones choice for Best of 2006.
Why? It starts: You see the listing for 'x' band playing 'Esoteric Urban Noise.' Or you read: 'instrumental saxophone-guitar-bass-drums power rock,' and you say 'What the fuck does that mean?' and think about it. Then, 'Do the band members even know what that means?' As your compatriot responds honestly, 'probably not' you find yourself gravitating towards the Lower East Side through the pizzabeer haze around 11:55 or so (rarely does the midnight show keep its word, so tardiness is seldom an issue). You're not so sure what you're going to see, but then again, it doesn't matter all that much. You're on your way to Tonic, for the midnight show, and it's always a good time. Room to dance if you want, bar to buy a beer (redstripe rules for some, bass ale others). Chances are that, standing there, in the truly barren landscape that is its interior, you won't have the deepest philosophical conversation of your life. Such discussion comes later, after the show. The journey of the music is a mental exercise. The midnight show is not the best because it always has the hottest, newest acts. It's the best because it reaches. Sometimes there are 5 people in the place 20 minutes into the show, with musicians marching on to the different drummer of their own sound, which might or might not involve eastern chants, household appliances, and a brass section. Other times, you've got new-age flamenco-funk moving the ceiling and walls with a house that's been packed since 11. Music is and should be experimentation. It should be new. The old and battered Tonic always is.
tonic nyc
It is upon entering the world of the show that many our age find freedom from all else. They feel the power of the music, move in ways not normally comfortable when in less forgiving space, and find peace in their souls. Sometimes it's just good music; other times, the confluence of friends beats and time of day creates something else entirely. What we're trying to say - it's not always about the music. Sometimes it's about the place, other times it's the people. Sometimes it's the memory of a place that once was, can, should, or will be. Music for the atheist is his connection to the spiritual world that doesn't exist otherwise. All can agree that music is a language that can bring people of disparate experience together. The combination of different musical experiences has become the norm, and at Tonic they move it to the next step.
The midnight Tonic show is the Cicero Jones choice for Best of 2006.
Why? It starts: You see the listing for 'x' band playing 'Esoteric Urban Noise.' Or you read: 'instrumental saxophone-guitar-bass-drums power rock,' and you say 'What the fuck does that mean?' and think about it. Then, 'Do the band members even know what that means?' As your compatriot responds honestly, 'probably not' you find yourself gravitating towards the Lower East Side through the pizzabeer haze around 11:55 or so (rarely does the midnight show keep its word, so tardiness is seldom an issue). You're not so sure what you're going to see, but then again, it doesn't matter all that much. You're on your way to Tonic, for the midnight show, and it's always a good time. Room to dance if you want, bar to buy a beer (redstripe rules for some, bass ale others). Chances are that, standing there, in the truly barren landscape that is its interior, you won't have the deepest philosophical conversation of your life. Such discussion comes later, after the show. The journey of the music is a mental exercise. The midnight show is not the best because it always has the hottest, newest acts. It's the best because it reaches. Sometimes there are 5 people in the place 20 minutes into the show, with musicians marching on to the different drummer of their own sound, which might or might not involve eastern chants, household appliances, and a brass section. Other times, you've got new-age flamenco-funk moving the ceiling and walls with a house that's been packed since 11. Music is and should be experimentation. It should be new. The old and battered Tonic always is.
Labels: best of 2006
¶ 10:22 PM
