About five days ago, there were reports that in the wake of a music festival on Randall’s Island – something called Electric Zoo – a cluster of at least 16 confirmed cases of COVID-19 had surfaced, and attendees were being advised to go get tested immediately, regardless of their vaccination status. This event happened outside and was attended by tens of thousands of people with deplorably bad taste in music EDM fans. According to the festival’s official website, attendees had to provide proof of vaccination or a negative COVID-19 test before they would be allowed to enter. Those with neither had the option of taking an on-site test (for a tidy $99.00). It had appeared that the organizers were being responsible, proactive, were all buttoned up and ready to … uhh …rock (well, not really).
But, alas, not so.
As weepily reported yesterday, my beloved DEVO – despite having themselves played the Riot Festival in Chicago just last weekend – cancelled their grand return to Radio City Music Hall this evening over COVID-19 concerns, although bitter rumors persist that it was more about poor ticket sales. People are also actually wagering as to whether this coming weekend’s Governors Ball -- another Lollapalooza-styled annual music festival also on Randall’s Island -- will get a similar last-minute plug-pulling.
If you go to the official websites of both Radio City Music Hall and the Governors Ball, both operations plainly lay out their COVID-19 protocols, just as the organizers of the Electric Zoo did.
While I’m still super bummed about the DEVO postponement/cancellation (the band is saying they’ll reschedule, but Ticketmaster are already saying I’m getting a refund), there was another gig I was planning on going to tomorrow night, that being Lydia Lunch’s Retrovirus at St. Vitus in Brooklyn.
Neither a stately, art-decco Manhattan institution nor an airy, outdoor festival ground, St. Vitus is a comparatively intimate, grotty rock club. Its walls are painted black and it has no windows. It plays host to an endearingly unsavory amalgam of heavy metal, punk, industrial and gratuitous noise rock. In other words, it’s fucking perfect. I’ve seen a handful of shows within its forbidding confines, and I’ve always had a fucking marvelous time.
But while entirely unlike the other concerns invoked in this post in every conceivable fashion, St. Vitus also has a proactive and starkly worded COVID-19 policy, just like Radio City Music Hall, Governors Ball and Electric Zoo. If you want to darken the already-dark doors of St. Vitus, you have to observe the protocol – proof of full vaccination in order to gain entry. It’s reassuringly worded and suggests a heightened awareness that this struggle is about the collective, not the individual.
Regardless, I’ve decided that I’m not going.
I wrestled with it for a bit, but in the grand scheme of things, it just doesn’t seem prudent. As has been alluded to in the graphs above, even the best-laid plans and intentions have gotten this wrong. While I may be encouraged by St. Vitus’ precautions and would be super keyed-up to see Retrovirus play, I regret to say that it’s just not worth the risk for me, right now. This will actually be the second show at St. Vitus I’ll be opting out of since the arrival of the pandemic, the first being Human Impact’s gig there in March of 2020, which I wrote about here. That performance indeed happened, but was an odd evening out, by all reports.
Look, everyone has their own comfort level with this situation. I don’t mean to dissuade anyone from going, nor am I shaming the venue for hosting the event nor the band from performing. Given my responsibilities and schedule of activities, it just doesn’t seem like the right move for me to make at this time. If you want to go, by all means do and have a great fucking time.
While I’m absolutely always game to see Lydia Lunch speak/read/perform/castigate in any permutation, I am especially bummed to be missing this particular iteration of Retrovirus, which features Sonic Youth/Pussy Galore/Bewitched drummer Bob Bert, rock-solid bassist Tim Dahl and explosive guitarist Weasel Walter of the Flying Luttenbachers. Flanked by these accomplished players, Lydia delves into her sprawling back catalog to reinterpret old works with strenuously muscular results. It’s damn hard to imagine ANYone being able to upstage Lydia Lunch, but Weasel Walter comes really damn close in the clip below. These motherfuckers can really play.
Here’s hoping they’ll be back.
ADDENDUM: For those of you, like myself, who opted out of attending last night's Retrovirus show (for whatever reason), they've since hosted the whole thing on YouTube. Enjoy ....
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