November 1, 2006

Since the dawn of rock and/or roll, bands have circled Halloween on their calendars as one of those special occasions. From the Grateful Dead routinely breaking out Werewolves of London to Zappa playing New York City to the popular rock band Phish covering a historical album for its second of three sets, Halloween traditions and enthusiasm can be found all over the scene.

That tradition continued last night and this past weekend, as many artists and groups played those special kinds of shows all across these United States. We’ll begin here with Widespread Panic, and read on after the jump for 11 more reports from around the country. And now, little man, we present this round-up to you…

Widespread Panic – MGM Grand, Las Vegas NV

One of the longest and strongest Halloween resumes belongs to Widespread Panic. The band gave some love to their fallen brother (Airplane), JerryBear (Morning Dew), and fellow Athens band REM (Can’t Get Here From There). I’m sure many Spreadnecks passed out at their computers when this setlist came rolling in.

Here’s your one reminder, then you’re on your own forever: Every Wednesday I scour the world wide web to bring you some of the best circulating torrents — both audio and video — that you may not have noticed floating around the information superhighway. Away we go with Vol. II:

The Breakfast – October 27^th, 2006
http://www.archive.org/details/breakfast2006-10-27.483.flac16

New Haven’s famed Toad’s Place on Friday hosted the 8^th Annual Fonghoulish Freakout. Recently The Breakfast parted ways with their keyboard player and became a trio, and at this show the band celebrated the great rock trios that came before them. Throughout the night they played Working Man (Rush), Angel (Hendrix), Welcome To This World (Primus), I Feel Free (Cream), We’re An American Band (Grand Funk Railroad), Synchronicity II (The Police), and Lithium (Nirvana). Stand-out originals include Gladys Pimp and Kangaroo With Me, as well as Taboo or Not Taboot.

My night unofficially ended at 2:40 am, when I stood outside my Bleecker Street apartment wondering if the spins would ever stop. At that moment, an Eastern European man in his late 20s approached me and said, “Excuse me, sir. You have toilet?” He held out two dollars, his face looked pained and he was definitely not in costume or character. “No. Dude, just no,” I managed to blurt out, and I headed upstairs to crash harder than Billy Joel. Ho, snap, girlfriend, a Billy Joel joke! I’m so fresh. What’s next, something about Paris Hilton?

My night officially began before 8 pm, when I stood bare-chested inside my Bleecker Street apartment wondering how drunk I could possibly get on a weeknight and still wake up in time for work. Kenny Alias was the first to arrive, “fresh from Deer Creek.” He had just wandered the West Village streets whispering “doses” and looking for a sixer of “phatty Sammy Smiths,” making his way up to my place early to tell me what a disaster the current crop of Tweezers have been. “Things were way better before the hiatus,” he lamented, never breaking his jaded vet character once.

The party had yet to start in earnest, but guests began to trickle in. “Hey, you wanna hit a bowl before more people get here?” I offered Kenny.

Without missing a beat, Kenny responded, “Nah, I’ve gotta work on an insane Motion for Reconsideration tomorrow.” You can take the wook out of the federal judge clerkship, but you can’t take the federal judge clerkship out of the wook.