WSC at Rock N Roll Hotel
So this weekend I decided to finally make my way down to H Street NE to check out Rock n Roll Hotel, and with it, Washington Social Club. I hadn't been there yet because the only sensible way to get there is by car, and who lives in DC to travel to clubs by car?
But anyway, the club turned out to be cool. Two floors, with bands and a dance floor on the first level, and on the second level a more chill space with couches, and separate rooms that initially appear to be like rooms off a hotel corner (thus the name). As I was watching the bands, it came over me that the place reminded me of the old 930 Club. Not sure whether it was the black-painted minimalist interior downstairs, the colored lights over a smallish stage, or just the spirit of an energetic club in an ancient building in a decayed neighborhood (as 930 F Street, NW used to be).
That feeling came over me even before I went upstairs and saw the corridor lined with flyers to old DC punk shows from the 1980s -- Grey Matter, Marginal Man, and many, many more. It reminded me of a similar corridor that ran behind the stage at d.c. space (rest in peace). So the Hotel, although being very much of the present time, also feels solidly as part of a continuum back to DC's rock-n-roll/punk past.
Anyway, on to the bands. I caught Stock Market Crash (funny name) opening for WSC. With Halloween nearing, the frontman told the crowd "we're in disguise -- as snotty British rockers." And actually, they did remind me of Oasis.
Washington Social Club put on a great show. They were all in costume, and the wackiness that is Halloween in DC (costumes in the audience included a Krispy Kreme girl with a knife through her head, and a bloodied tennis star, and the band was in costume as well) seemed to further energise an already energetic show. That energy showed no signs of dissipating when Liberation Dance Party kicked in right after their set, but I was getting hungry so I pointed my car up Florida Avenue, past the protesters at Gallaudet and back to the more familiar environs of Northwest.
On the way home, a dumpster hit my car, as if to punish me for breaking my never-drive-when-going-out rule. But it was only a scratch, and I'd have to say that for an infusion of good environment, music, and Halloween spirit, it was worth it.
But anyway, the club turned out to be cool. Two floors, with bands and a dance floor on the first level, and on the second level a more chill space with couches, and separate rooms that initially appear to be like rooms off a hotel corner (thus the name). As I was watching the bands, it came over me that the place reminded me of the old 930 Club. Not sure whether it was the black-painted minimalist interior downstairs, the colored lights over a smallish stage, or just the spirit of an energetic club in an ancient building in a decayed neighborhood (as 930 F Street, NW used to be).
That feeling came over me even before I went upstairs and saw the corridor lined with flyers to old DC punk shows from the 1980s -- Grey Matter, Marginal Man, and many, many more. It reminded me of a similar corridor that ran behind the stage at d.c. space (rest in peace). So the Hotel, although being very much of the present time, also feels solidly as part of a continuum back to DC's rock-n-roll/punk past.
Anyway, on to the bands. I caught Stock Market Crash (funny name) opening for WSC. With Halloween nearing, the frontman told the crowd "we're in disguise -- as snotty British rockers." And actually, they did remind me of Oasis.
Washington Social Club put on a great show. They were all in costume, and the wackiness that is Halloween in DC (costumes in the audience included a Krispy Kreme girl with a knife through her head, and a bloodied tennis star, and the band was in costume as well) seemed to further energise an already energetic show. That energy showed no signs of dissipating when Liberation Dance Party kicked in right after their set, but I was getting hungry so I pointed my car up Florida Avenue, past the protesters at Gallaudet and back to the more familiar environs of Northwest.
On the way home, a dumpster hit my car, as if to punish me for breaking my never-drive-when-going-out rule. But it was only a scratch, and I'd have to say that for an infusion of good environment, music, and Halloween spirit, it was worth it.
