On this date last year, somebody paid $10,000 for a T-shirt. An Australian man purchased a 1979 Led Zeppelin concert T-shirt on eBay for that amount, making it the most expensive concert T-shirt ever sold. (Though I bet The Eagles got close on their various, outrageously-priced reunion tours in recent years.) The shirt appears to be a "back stage pass" from the concert.
After the sale, Denver weekly Westword posted a story on its blog counting down the next 10 most costly shirts purchased. From their research, they deemed a James Brown shirt with a bad caricature of the Godfather of Soul and the words "I'm Black and I'm Proud," an early Nirvana shirt featuring a parody of John Lennon's Two Virgin's album cover and a "Metal Up Your Ass" Metallica shirt as the next most rare, each going for $1,000.
Currently, the most costly concert shirts available on eBay are a 1976 Stones shirt (yours for $7,900), a 1973 Who concert "staff" shirt ($4,691.82), a different Zep shirt (from, I believe, the same concert as the one that cost 10 grand; $3,949.21) and a Johnny Thunders shirt from 1984 ($3,909.72).
Here are a couple of Ohio tunes written in honor of those crucial concert souvenirs. Early Hamilton, Ohio, Punk band ChemDyne and Columbus' Watershed both had songs called "Black Concert T-Shirt."
Born This Day: Musical movers and shakers sharing a May 11 birthday include legendary songwriter ("God Bless America," "White Christmas") Irving Berlin (1888); one of the greatest white Soul vocalists ever with The Animals, Eric Burdon (1941); drummer and founding member of The Allman Brothers Band, Butch Trucks (1947); producer and founding member of avant-garde Pop group the Art of Noise, Gary Langan (1956); original MTV VJ Martha Quinn (1959); and frontman for one of Cincinnati's all-time greatest Rock bands, The Afghan Whigs, Greg Dulli (1965).
Dulli — born and raised in Hamilton, Ohio — is currently gearing up to begin performing once again with his Whigsmates John Curley (still living, working and playing music in Cincinnati) and Rick McCollum (now living in Minneapolis). Tickets for the group's first show in 13 years — May 23 at the Bowery Ballroom in New York City — go on sale today at noon. According to the band's website, the fan pre-sale sold out and there are "a very limited number of tickets" left. The band will warm up for the show on May 22 with a performance on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon.
Will the Whigs merely do a reunion victory lap then go their separate ways again? It's unclear so far, but in interviews with Dulli, he seems very inspired playing with his old pals again. In terms of a possible new Whigs album, he told the website www.thisisfakediy.co.uk, "I am going to keep the book open and keep the possibility, all possibilities available. We're going to see what happens, and react to what happens, but right now it's wide open. Yes, maybe, maybe not, we'll see. I hate to be ambiguous, but in this particular case, I think it's best." (He also said re-issues of the band's back catalog are "definitely going to happen.")
Raise a glass and wish Mr. Dulli a happy 47th birthday. Here are a few clips of Dulli's extracurricular activities during his days with the Whigs to help you celebrate:
• In 1994, Dulli sang John Lennon's parts on the soundtrack to Backbeat, a film about early Beatles bassist Stuart Sutcliffe. On the soundtrack he was part of a band that included Thurston Moore (Sonic Youth), Mike Mills (R.E.M.), Dave Pirner (Soul Asylum) and Foo Fighter/ex-Nirvana drummer Dave Grohl. Here they are doing a song originally made a hit by Cincinnati-born music icons The Isley Brothers.
• Dulli teamed with Grohl again in 1995, playing guitar on his debut album, Foo Fighters. Grohl played all of the instruments on the album except for a guitar part on "X-Static," which Dulli provided.
In 1999, Dulli recorded a cover of "Dixie Peach Promenade (Yin for Yang)," a tribute to late Moby Grape member Skip Spence and his cult classic album, Oar.
By now, thanks to Facebook mostly, most of you have heard that one third of the legendary Hip Hop trio Beastie Boys — Adam "MCA" Yauch — died this morning in New York City after a three-year battle with cancer. He was 47 years old and leaves behind a legacy to be proud of, with his crucial contributions to music, video and activism.
In an eerie coincidence, Northside club Mayday tonight has a scheduled dance party hosted by DJ Mowgli called "Run DMC vs. Beastie Boys," featuring music by both historic crews. The music starts at 10 p.m. and there's no cover. Something tells me there will be a little extra Beasties love from the DJ in light of today's events.
Below is the press release about Yauch's death from the Beastie Boys' longtime publicists at Nasty Little Man.
On this day in 2001, British Pop Art legend Sir Peter Blake sued EMI for more money for his work on a 1967 album cover. That cover is not only his most well-known piece of art — it's also one of the most well-known album covers in history. Blake and wife Jann Haworth created the collaged crowd scene on the cover of The Beatles' Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. And they were paid about $350 for their trouble, according to Blake's suit.
The cover included cultural icons from Stan Laurel, Mae West, Lenny Bruce and Tony Curtis to Aldous Huxley, Dylan Thomas, Bob Dylan, Carl Jung and Shirley Temple. The use of their likenesses reportedly so scared the label (which feared major lawsuits from the "celebrities"), they had to try and seek permission (whenever possible) for use.
Lennon's (possibly joking) suggestion of having Hitler, Gandhi and Jesus represented on the cover also didn't go over well with the label. Gandhi was featured on the original cover, but was removed because it wouldn't be carried in India. Jesus didn't make the cut at all, coming so soon after Lennon's infamous claims of The Beatles being more famous than Him. Hitler was believed to have been edited out, though Blake recently revealed that if you look carefully, Adolf is obscured behind the Fab Four and Tarzan actor Johnny Weissmuller. Actor Leo Gorcey (one of the Bowery Boys) reportedly wanted $400 for his appearance on the cover — $50 more than what the artists' received for making it — so he was promptly axed from the pic. And Mexican actor/comedian Tin-Tan respectfully declined and asked that a "Tree of Life" be included in his place (it was, featured in the lower right corner).
Here's a good run down of the others that did make the cut. And check out this video montage of outtakes from the famous photo shoot:
Click on for Born This Day featuring Rick Dees and the death of the American novelty tune.
When researching Bogart’s for the first of these columns, I discovered a place that used to be its side-stream neighbor. Sudsy Malone’s, which sat just across the street from Bogart’s until 2008, may be a well-known name to older Cincinnatians, but to those of my generation I imagine it’s a legend unheard.
Sudsy’s, as those who knew it well referred to it, was more than just a bar or music venue. It was a laundromat. A gathering place of locals who fancied having a beer and hearing a tune as their clothes turned over in bubbly cleanliness. And while it was only open for a fraction of the time many of the big venues around here have been, it occupies a deep space in the history of Cincinnati and its local music scene.
Refined searches and several page scrolls through Google turns up hardly anything on the former venue. I finally found a memorial Facebook page that further fascinated me, still only offering a brief and general history but filled with posts by former loyal patrons reminiscing of great times at the bar, offering tales of hilarious happenings along with images, videos and old posters to fill it all in with color.
I wanted to know more in hopes of giving Sudsy’s its due place in Cincinnati music history. To understand where it all started and where it went from there, I talked to Janine Walz, a former managing partner who was around during the establishment’s heyday.
Sudsy’s was originally owned by John Cioffi and opened in 1986. As I understand it, the idea was inspired by similar businesses popping up in the region such as Dirty Dungarees in Columbus. They serve beer, so you can sip some foam while listening to the groan of washers and dryers, but Dungaree’s was never quite a bar. They served drinks in more of a refreshment center style. Cioffi’s vision for Sudsy’s was different.
The decision for the name came from a lot of scrawling and scratching by Cioffi and his family.
“They just had a long list of names that they would write down as they were brainstorming, and then they started crossing names out until it was down to Soapy Tucker’s or Sudsy Malone’s,” Walz says.
Sharp, the highly adored Renaissance man known for his ballet career in
Cincinnati and who sadly just passed away in September, designed the character
logos. Soapy Tucker was a sort of motherly figure, whereas Sudsy Malone was a true
He became the face of the place, with his one-eyed look, suds-filled beer and coin-flipping hand becoming the calling card of the bar’s sign.
Upon walking in the front door guests faced a 40-foot bar.
“We would have competitions to see who could slide a mug full of beer the furthest down the bar without spilling it,” Walz recalls with a smile.
They had little round cocktail tables covered with dark blue tablecloths and standard bar stools. The ceiling undulated with the movement of fans under which each had a globular light, providing a sort of soft ambiance to the bar.
At the back of the building sat the laundry area, a brightly lit room where the fluorescent lights glinted off dozens of top-of-the-line washers and dryers.
“I remember some of the bands complaining after a while about the laundry room lights because they would glow into the bar and kill the mood for the crowd,” Walz says. “We strung up some Christmas lights and would just turn those on instead when bands were on stage at night.”
When the place first opened, however, the stage didn’t exist. Live music had never even been part of the idea.
“It was only intended to be a laundromat with frosty-mug beer,” Walz says of the original plan.
Walz recalls being the second laundry customer when Sudsy’s first opened. She worked at the Perkins just up Short Vine, and happened to be John Cioffi’s waitress the day he sat down to get food with the liquor agent that was supposed to be approving Sudsy’s license.
“When they were finishing lunch he asked me to come a few doors down to talk to him about a job,” she says. “I figured it was the same distance from home and might pay better, so I went. Next thing I knew I was hired on as a manager.”
In other words, she was there from the start. Walz watched the bar being built, and she knew it when it was just a place for people to wash clothes and have a drink, the crowd rarely exceeding 10 people.
Only months after the place opened, a local band called The Thangs approached the owners with the idea to play music. Essentially, they just wanted a place to gig when nowhere else would let them. After some hesitation, Sudsy’s let them do it, and much to their surprise the first show was packed with about 100 people. Sudsy’s wasn’t expecting this, and they completely sold out of every drop of beer they had stocked at the time.
outrageous success, The Thangs wanted to come back. Before long, music became
the detergent to Sudsy’s suds, responsible for consistently bringing in large
crowds. At first they charged a very minimal cover, mostly so they had
something to give the band, and offered a free soft-drink ticket with entry for
By ’87 they were charging a $5 cover, although they would still let people in for free if they had a basket of laundry. This often resulted in washers full of abandoned clothes the next day, as people brought the clothes to get in and then simply forgot about them in the excitement of music and merriment. Over time, Sudsy’s developed a massive collection of forsaken threads.
This memory sparked another for Walz: “I remember this guy that would show up about once every year driving a station wagon. He would take the clothes people had left over time and pack every inch of his car, literally. He would do something with them, I think donate them.”
As the place continually packed in people like foam to the top of a mug — thanks to the highly praised booking magic of Dan McCabe (Now of MOTR Pub) — problems inevitably occurred that now seem laughable. The carpet in the bar area became so matted and disgusting that it resembled tile, so Walz had it ripped out and replaced with wood. The men’s bathroom was a story of its own. Widely known as “Worst Men’s Bathroom,” Walz said she wouldn’t go near it, even almost buying stainless steel sheets to layer on it so she could just hose it down at night.
At one point the fire department came in and completely cleared house, although there wasn’t a single flame or wisp of smoke. The building’s stated capacity was far under how many people they would pack in, and one night they had to count the crowd back in, one by one. Eventually they completely stopped the music for a period of time to get the building up to code.
Despite its small size, Sudsy’s brought in now-major acts that were rising at the time — Beck, Smashing Pumpkins and Red Hot Chili Peppers — while also helping breed local acts like The Afghan Whigs and Over The Rhine. Almost all the music was original, save some special events like Grateful Dead night.
Even on nights they weren’t playing themselves, members of bands could always be found among the crowd. The music scene at the time was like a circle, made up of bands and fans that truly appreciated music and enjoyed simply watching people express themselves creatively. Bands would come out and support other bands. Non-musicians would out come and support them all.
and celebrities that were too big to play there live in the storybooks.
Popularly known folks like Jackson Browne, "Weird Al" Yankovic and
James Taylor stopped in to wash clothes or use the phone. Kate Pierson (B52s)
and Chrissie Hynde (The Pretenders) came by during their Tide protest to pass
out literature in affiliation with People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals.
Walz recalls the afternoon before a Jefferson Airplane concert at Riverbend when the bar was pretty empty and there were four guys hanging out doing laundry and drinking a beer. They were worried about their cab not showing up and frantically trying to figure out how to get to their hotel — so Walz drove them. Only after dropping them off did she realize the reason the dudes were so worried about being late.
Walz showed me the blueprint of the building, and again lit up when she pointed out the wash sink in the laundry room.
“Some crazy celebrity took a bath in that sink one night,” she says. “I’m pretty sure it was Marilyn Manson.”
And these stop-ins aren’t the only “celebrity” claims to fame for Sudsy’s. The bar itself was given awards throughout the years from Cincinnati’s former alternative weekly Everybody’s News, from “Best Looking Staff” to “Best Rock Club,” and even “Best Place to Ditch a Blind Date.” They were also named the best bar in Ohio in ’93 by Creem magazine, courtesy of The Connells.
However, all the press, awards and celebrities aside, Walz says what really made the place special were the local patrons.
“It was like a family, people were loyal,” she says. “They would look out for others, and for the bands, and would always defend Sudsy’s no matter what. Without the people, everybody, the people that watched the bands, the bands themselves, Sudsy’s was nothing.”
The bar would even cater specifically to bands they knew well, for example stocking extra Hudy Delight when The Thangs would come back because their crowd loved to drink it.
There were also folks she referred to as “family bums”. There was Archie Harrison, a local homeless man who would help clean at night for a little money. During the days he would just hang out, always being jolly and telling jokes sharing what little bit of anything he might have had that day to share.
Then there was Sonny, a good-hearted man who hid behind a hulk of a body. Sonny would guard the back door, despite never being asked.
“I remember one time one of the dryers was broken and the glass wasn’t in there to cover the hole,” she says. “We had an out of order sign but, you know, I guess it disappeared. No surprise there. Anyway, we had given him some money to do laundry and he used that dryer, just picking up the clothes as they fell out of hole and throwing them right back in. It was hysterical. When we asked him why he didn’t switch dryers he said he didn’t want to bother us and cause trouble.”
As the Millennium rolled around, a lot of the core patrons began settling down and showing up less often. The crime in the area would keep people away, and the decline in the laundry business lowered their numbers even further. Walz had just put $12,000 into a new sprinkler system, still trying to keep the building code-worth, but she, too, was moving toward settling down.
“I was pregnant at that pointm too, and I was just kind of done working in the bar business,” she says.
That, along with clashes between Walz and McCabe about making money versus booking acts that would be huge for the scene led to Walz selling the establishment by 2002.
While it seems that Sudsy’s wasn’t as glorious after that time as it once had been, the venue remained open until 2008, at which time it closed its doors for good. The old building at 2626 Vine Street remains a boarded up relic.
One of the most revealing things Walz said during our talk about Sudsy’s was, “If you were there, you were part of the reason you are here talking to me today.”
me that I didn’t have to opportunity to be there, but for all those who were, as
well as for the others that might not have known what this place ever was, this
is just a small piece of the big apple pie that was Sudsy Malone’s Rock n’ Roll
Laundry & Bar.