A Real, Simple Plan
SOME WILL PAY for what others pay to avoid. Or, if you prefer, let's just rehash how the rich are different from you or me. I'm at the Lighthouse at Chelsea Piers for a benefit for Community Access, where wealthy socialite types are bidding impressive amounts on packages that include "a behind-the-scenes visit with Katie Couric" and "an exclusive personal tour of MTV studio." In related moments of good judgment, old guys are debating the virtue of hors d'oeuvres by asking the server, "I don't like cheese-do you think I'll like this?"
Executive Director Steven Coe describes them as the "formerly homeless and mentally ill." Sounds like some wishful thinking as concerns the latter. Still, I'm impressed by the organization's creative use of the English language. I'm further impressed by the self-proclaimed Community Access tenant-who may have been invited-taking the podium and declaring, "I've been blessed with artistic genius and mental illness."
By "impressed," incidentally, I mean impressed as a fear-disabled consumer. But not as fearful as when Coe further informs us that Community Access works with the mentally unhinged in having "registered them to vote." I recall reading about busloads of those types being sent to the polls for David Dinkins in 1992.
But that's all negative, mean-spirited thinking on my part. I'm sure these fabulously wealthy folks will set me straight whenever Community Access buys the property next to mine. As noted, some will pay for what others can pay to avoid.
I shouldn't be here, anyway. I'm killing time before I wander over a few blocks for the big punk rock show. That's why I'm wearing black jeans, a blazer and a tie. I was trying to look well-dressed and jaunty, but I'm pretty sure this is what shoe salesmen wear at the mall. I'm more appropriately dressed once I ditch the tie while heading to the HIRO Ballroom for the album-release party for Simple Plan-whom their really old fans might recall being known as "A" Simple Plan way back in 2002.
I now look more like the beleaguered high-school social studies teacher you'd expect to chaperone a Simple Plan concert. Too bad the event isn't being attended by the Simple Plan fan base. Tonight is for industry types and grown-ups, although I didn't realize there was anything to cover until I arrive to find a wall of photographers.
I stake myself out by my fave rave US Weekly writer and kill time until the guys from Simple Plan show up. This gives me the chance to witness lead singer Pierre Bouvier's careful catalogue of punkish grimaces, before the small collection of journalists asks the band a bunch of holiday-themed questions. I jump in with the continuing question that matters even more in the wake of the impressive Still Not Getting Any?-specifically, when will Simple Plan finally get the respect they deserve as a great melodic power-pop act?
"Never going to happen," says one and all. There's a good reason that the answer's rehearsed. The question is so clichéd that the cover of Threat declares "Simple Plan: Still not getting any?respect." It's hard to miss the first issue of the magazine-targeted to the baby brothers of Tool fans-as copies are on display throughout the venue.
This reminds me of the good works of Community Access, since Threat provides a home for retarded rock critics who require a special readership. There might be a 10-year-old somewhere who'll be impressed by a punk album being described as "about as comfortable as an unanaesthetized root canal." Also, New York Press is no longer the only publication incompetent enough to use a Marky-era Ramones pic in a blurb about the Tommy Ramone years. They're stealing our act.
Simple Plan edge out the equally fine and maligned Good Charlotte as a great live band-although this show would be worth attending for the sight of a woman under the age of 40 wearing a Black 47 t-shirt. I'm also baffled to see the Naked Cowboy. As I recall, I'd earlier received a press release saying that he'd be at Snitch the next night for the shooting of an Anthrax video. Maybe I'm confused. That's preferable to the notion that the Naked Cowboy and I now move in the same social circles.
I actually approach the Naked Cowboy to ask about this. "I don't know anything about making an Anthrax video," replies the tireless self-promoter. "Tell me where it is, and I'd be happy to show up."
Yeah, that's a safe bet. I get the hell away before anybody thinks I'm interviewing the guy. This gets me stuck next to some creep who's sporting Jesse Malin's old hairdo and has "PISS" written on his bare chest. Hey, he's been blessed with artistic genius and mental illness!
It takes some prompting before I remember that "PISS" serves as the nametag for a member of local Satanic rockers Lesion. If only more musicians had the simple dignity of the Naked Cowboy. This is probably another example of Simple Plan's history of supporting dumb animals. I can forgive them their alliance with PETA. It isn't Simple Plan's fault that they're unfairly stuck with a fanbase that's barely a generation removed from My Little Pony.
This comes up again when Simple Plan takes the stage. The band seems to think that it's very important for their audience to get drunk. They're certainly used to open bars. Then I figure out that they're thrilled to have an entire audience that's of drinking age.
David Desrosiers-who'd be the absolutely cutest Simp if it weren't for those facial piercings-is less thrilled with something else he knows about us. The bassist steps to the mic to make a very important announcement: "Most of the people here have gotten the record for free, right? Do me a favor-if you really like the record, go out and buy it!"
"David," notes Bouvier, "you're crazy."
Other stuff to like about Simple Plan: Bouvier has enough pop culture to quote Arte Johnson, which is more than the staff of Rolling Stone could pull off nowadays. The fake start to Ashlee Simpson's "Pieces of Me" is pretty funny. The band uses this historic occasion to bring together the staffs of MTV and Fuse. I don't even mind when Simple Plan is brought back to be presented with their double-platinum certification for their debut album-although it's sad when that pissy guy from Lesion jumps onstage to try and get some Montreal punk street cred.
Which reminds me that I misread the press release about that Anthrax video. The footage of metalheads to be shot at Snitch would only be one part of a video "slated to contain everyone from your 'average joe,' to porn stars, the Naked Cowboy in Times Square?"
I see the Naked Cowboy out in Times Square the next day. I think about going over and explaining the mix-up, but-well, you know. There are people around. Hopefully, the Naked Cowboy didn't bother showing up. He'd have been disappointed if he did. As the Anthrax publicist later informs me, the video shoot-"designed to display the band in their natural setting"-wouldn't be including an actual appearance by the band. Good thing that Simple Plan is around to keep it real.