There are a few, ridiculously trivial “Holy Grail” items out there that I’d still donate an organ to track down. Foremost among them is the poster above, one of only a limited run, posted around downtown Manhattan in the summer of 1984, advertising two neighborhood gigs by The Sisters of Mercy. It's lovely, isn't it?
Sadly, while I’d just recently become a fan of the Sisters, by 1984, I was unable to attend this show, as I believe I was with a bunch of teenaged strangers on a bicycle trip, zig-zagging across the state of Massachusetts with the American Youth Hostel group, that summer, and invariably doing a whole lot of complaining, as was my wont, at the time.
Not only were these gigs notable as early appearances by the Sisters (they’d played New York prior to these gigs, notably at Danceteria), the second of these NYC shows was significant as it was an incongruous opening slot for ill-matched headliners, Black Flag, also a favorite of mine, at the time. So, yeah, I didn’t get to go to that.
But as with quite a few gigs I’ve alluded to before, my comrade Greg Fasolino (recently invoked in my eulogy to Steve Albini) did, and – as was his wont – took pains to record the show, god bless him. As this week marks the – good fucking lord -- FORTIETH -- anniversary of this show, Greg posted the below on Facebook.
40 years ago today: The Sisters of Mercy and (yes) Black Flag double bill at NYC’s Ritz, after a nice daytime record shopping trip to Slipped Disc. It was only the second time I’d been to The Ritz, and the first and only time I saw the Sisters live (and as you can see from the pics, I was front and center) An absolutely riveting performance. The smoke machine was stupendous. As I’ve written about in the past, it was also the weirdest bill in my concert-going history. They played with Black Flag as the headliner! So what you had here was an audience of half proto-goths and half hardcore punks. The punks were visibly and audibly hostile to the Sisters from the beginning of the show; on my tape of the show, you can hear Andrew Eldritch walk out and tell them to “settle down.” As for Flag, I worshipped their early records but by this time they’d gotten plodding and metallic and I wasn’t as into it as I’d hoped, though Henry was clearly a force of nature. August 9, 1984.
Nice, right? I’m taking the liberty of sharing a couple of Greg’s shots from the proceedings…
Here is Greg’s recording of the Sisters’ set…and you can indeed hear Andrew admonish the punks in the room…
So, yeah, even though it was by no means a normal show, given my adoration for both outfits (I’d go on to see both bands perform – separately, of course), it seems like a nexus point I should have been present for.
In any case, much like that elusive Cop Shoot Cop flyer I continue to scour the globe for, I’d happily pay handsomely for the poster pictured up top, fleetingly available on Etsy, some years back, for a suitably lofty amount of money. I am not holding my breath.
As a testament to his resourceful creativity, his own affinity for the Sisters of Mercy and consideration for his dear ol’ dad, my son Oliver mocked up a replica of the poster on his computer, which was damn swell of him.
Today, the Sisters of Mercy are still a going concern, albeit in their umpteenth line-up, finding vocalist/mother superior Andrew Eldridge as the only original member. They're slated to slither back into town next month to play Radio City Music Hall.
Ostensibly, Black Flag also still exists, although only as a sporadically touring vehicle for founding guitarist Greg Ginn and a rotating cast of largely anonymous henchmen. Henry Rollins left the ranks of Black Flag in 1986. I was actually privileged to witness one of that iteration of the band's final performances at the Newport Music Hall in Columbus, OH, but it was honestly not that memorable a show. Henry went onto pursue a wide range of other projects, not least the Rollins Band. He has since given up performing music entirely, but still tenaciously tours as a spoken-word performer. He's also a far more approachable, thoughtful and considerate figure than he ever was back in the `80s.
Irving Plaza, despite a brief, confusing stint as the Filmore East at Irving Plaza, is still in full operation here in 2024. The Ritz technically moved uptown to West 54th Street at the tail end of 1989 for a short few years before closing at some point in the middle of the `90s. The original space that had been The Ritz morphed back into Webster Hall and became more of a dance club. Webster Hall closed for a spell, but is currently back in full swing.
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