The Filthies in Jerry’s Hell
Last night the Filthies were playing at downtown’s youthful punk venue-- Jerry’s Pizza. I love the Filthies! They were the first local band I fell in love with and that love has not dissipated in the least. Having recently attended other shows at Jerry’s Pizza where things seemed to go fine-- I had planned on going to Jerry’s last night to see the Filthies play.

It was early when I walked down the Wall Street Alley, early for downtown anyway, and the old renovated alley looked deserted. Only one or two people milled about outside the old time Alley Cat where stale smoke and stiff drinks abound. Riley’s back door, while open, seemed deserted. And that quaint neon blue brick space Azul’s wasn’t even open yet. It was about 8:30pm. The show was supposed to start at 7:30pm and I thought I’d be arriving late but in time to see The Filthies play. So I was very surprised when I found Jerry’s practically empty when I arrived. Rob Shock, fellow blogger and Filthies fan, was standing near the front door leaning on a table looking as if he was officially in charge of the night's event.

“What’s going on? There’s nobody here.” I asked Rob Shock.

“I guess the bands aren’t going to start until around 9:30pm.” He explained.

“Then why did the flyer say 7:30pm?” I asked restless.

“I don’t know.” He replied.

Rob Shock and I hung out by a tall table next to Jerry’s front door with a Ridgeview High School senior named Sheena who’s name and makeup reminded me of that 80’s rocker Sheena Easton. Like me, all of her friends were unavailable to go out that evening and she had been determined to come by herself because she desperately wanted to see the Filthies.

“Are you in college?” Sheena asked me.

“No. Not for many years.” I explained.

“Really? How old are you?” She asked.

“37.” I replied.

“Wow! You look like you are in your 20’s.” She stated.

I loved her instantly. The three of us stood there talking, watching punkers, kids, and others walk by as we waited for the night’s entertainment to begin. I went inside the pizzeria for a diet Pepsi and picked up the September issue of the local Blackboard. I hadn’t had a chance to read NL’s article on the local Bakersfield music scene yet. I read the article while everyone that passed and stopped to inquire about the bands that were playing that night mistook Rob as the doorman. They asked his permission to use the bathroom. They tried to pay him a cover charge to enter. He could have made a lot of money while we waited for musicians to show up.

“Where’s the real doorman? Aren’t they charging a cover charge tonight?” I asked Rob.

“I don’t know. No one’s here yet.” He replied.

“I never knew bouncers had so much power.” Rob stated.

“It’s the bouncer complex. Just like doctors have a God complex, bouncer’s have a power complex.” I explained.

It wasn’t much longer before musicians showed up and started unloading band equipment and carrying it downstairs to Jerry’s basement. Rob, Sheena and I sat in a booth in the front of Jerry’s talking about an all girl band Rob had seen the night before and the demise of 3 Cent Nickel and Ridicule, while waiting. It seemed the night’s show was never going to start.

All of a sudden there were loud rumbling, scuffling and banging noises coming from the other room in Jerry’s. People ran to see what was going on including Jerry. It was a fight. A big fight. We stayed out of harm’s way in the booth close to the front door. The fight was broken up and a guy strong-armed out past us and through the front door. Another guy followed quickly trying to catch him as others pulled him back.

“He knocked out my bass player! He deserves to be fucked up!” The guy yelled.

“It’s not worth it.” Another guy said to him while pulling him back.

Soon after the fight, Cacti Widders who had been jumped in Jerry’s for no apparent reason, packed up their equipment and left without playing. Last night Jerry’s had a completely different vibe than the night before when I had briefly attended the Stereotactic cd release show and talked to old friends that I hadn’t seen in a couple of years. There was a completely different crowd and an element of danger in the air. It was uncomfortable. It was getting later and the music still hadn’t started.

“If this thing doesn’t get started soon, I’m leaving.” I said to Rob and Sheena.

Members from Active Ingredients came upstairs and told everyone to come downstairs; they were about to begin playing. We had been waiting for music for hours; so we went down to hear them play. Downstairs Active Ingredients encouraged the crowd to mosh and slam dance, “Just pick up anyone you knock down”, they said. During their set a crowd of hard-core punkers, unlike any I had seen at local music shows before, began a mosh circle and slam dancing that got out of hand. A group of about 10 kids ranging in age from 12 to 15 dressed in punk attire that had come out to downtown's youthful punk venue to hear punk music were dancing close to the stage. One kid was slammed hard into the brick wall by a hard-core punker with a blue Mohawk. Rob, Sheena and I stood towards the back stairs far from the stage and moshing area with Gus, Guppy and Kelley of the Filthies listening to the music. Active Ingredients’ music was good. Loud, but good. The moshing continued and the blue Mohawk guy wasn’t content with just slamming into other moshers and hitting them with chains, he went after people who were just trying to listen to the music, jumping on them, slamming into them, knocking them down. And then the blue Mohawk guy decided that he wanted to slam Gus of the Filthies. He ran and jumped on Gus and in the process slammed me into the brick wall. I hit the wall hard.

“Are you alright?” Rob asked.

“Yeah.” I said pissed off.

I just wanted to listen to the Filthies I hadn’t asked to be physically attacked! At the end of Active Ingredients’ set Rob, Sheena and I went upstairs to wait while the Filthies set up. From the booth where we sat we could hear Gus warming up on his guitar in the dark basement below us. Kenny hadn’t shown up yet. He didn’t know that one band had canceled and the other had left because they had been beaten up. He had expected his band to be playing later and was still working a limo job for a wedding. Guppy came up, sat in the booth with us and waited.

“Anyone know any jokes?” Guppy asked.

The three of us, so obviously not joke tellers, searched our brains for something that would entertain Guppy while we waited for Kenny to get there.

“Will the Filthies still play?” Sheena asked.

She was worried that they wouldn’t play after all this waiting. Being under 21 this show was the first opportunity she had to hear them since discovering their music on myspace.com.

“Kenny’s on his way.” I told her.

About that time Kenny walked through the door.

“Sorry guys. I couldn’t get here any sooner.” Kenny said apologizing.

“What happened to Cacti Widders?” He asked.

“They got beat up and left.” Guppy explained.

“Nice Jerry's hospitality.” Kenny stated.

“Is there anyone still here? Are there any kids left? Or are we playing a special show just for Matildakay?” Kenny inquired giving me a smile.

“Play a special show just for me because I’ve waited all night for you guys and I got slammed into a wall.” I told Kenny.

“Are you serious?” He asked concerned.

I shook my head yes.

“Let’s go play.” He said to the guys as we followed them downstairs.

Most of the hard-core punkers including the blue Mohawk guy had gone or at least they weren’t downstairs anymore. And the crowd looked a little bit more like normal Filthies fans. The group of young kids had stuck around too. Rob, Sheena and I stood close to the stage. I looked around and hoped we would be safe there. I had never felt this way at a music show before.

The Filthies opened their set with fan favorite The Donut Shop. The crowd showed their enthusiasm and sang along to their lyrics: “No body likes me/ everybody hates me/ guys beat me up/ girls turn me down/ one of these days… I think I’m gonna blow up this town” When out of no where six or more Bakesfield Police Officers ran down Jerry’s basement stairs after a guy they were chasing. They tackled him to the ground, sat on him, hand cuffed him and strong-armed him up the stairs as the Filthies kept right on singing: “No body likes me/ everybody hates me/ guys beat me up/ girls turn me down/ one of these days… I think I’m gonna blow up this town” and the crowd watched dumbfounded.

This is so surreal! I thought to myself.

“Are we the only band in town that draws the cops?” Kenny asked the crowd at end of the song.

“Yeah!” The crowd screamed.

“Notice the cops came while we were playing The Donut Shop song.” He continued spinning the circumstances we had just witnessed with sarcasm.

The Filthies played another song. The young kids danced punk style and two drunk guys holding big beer cups tried to slam dance.

“I’m dedicating this show to Matildakay, right there.” Kenny said pointing at me.

And then they began another song. The Filthies played a great set that included fan favorites: You look Dead to Me, Hooray for Hollywood, Take my ass home, Dramarama’s Anything and Embalm You as well as a few others. No matter what the circumstances, the Filthies always put on a great show. They are just that good!

“What a night!” Kenny said to me at the end of their set.

“I know it’s been kind of scary.” I said.

“This is the first local music show I’ve been to that I didn’t feel safe at.” I explained.

“I thought Jerry’s had changed, but its still the same place.” Kenny sadly lamented.

He was right. The new red paint and cleaner appearance hadn’t changed the atmosphere or demographics of Jerry’s. It just gave it a false sense of security. Colored over the bad vibes and angry violence that frequented this famous downtown youthful punk venue. I didn’t know if it was the lack of cover charge this night that had allowed any and every troublemaker on the street to walk in that was to blame for the problems. The other shows I had recently attended at Jerry’s had cover charges and didn’t have this kind of violent crowd. Perhaps it was the absence of any kind of security or bouncers at Jerry's that other venues have that contributed to the violence. There was no element of authority in this dark downtown youthful punk venue. This night, I didn’t feel safe there as an adult woman. If I were a parent I certainly wouldn’t allow my 12-15 year old kids to hang out in Jerry’s without parent supervision. Did the parents of that group of kids even know what went on at Jerry’s? What other dangerous or illegal activities besides violence went on at Jerry's? I wondered.

“I can’t wait to start playing the new songs.” Kenny said.

“I can’t wait to hear them.” I said.

“We’ve got the new songs all ready to record and we’re getting closer to finishing the new album.” He continued.

“I’ve got a shirt for you.” Gus told me.

He didn’t have any of their new shirts in my size at their last show and had promised to get me one. I got my new Filthies shirt, told Gus good night and went to tell Kenny and Kelley good-bye.

“I’m taking off. I think I’ve had enough fun for tonight.” I said giving each of them a hug.

“Is someone walking you out?” Kenny asked.

“No. I came by myself.” I replied.

“Let me walk you out.” Kenny said.

We walked down the Wall Street Alley past punkers and bikers and various crowds that lingered around the alley's bar doors.

“This alley is trouble just waiting to happen.” Kenny stated.

I agreed with him. The alley seemed much more sinister this night than it had at the last show I attended at Jerry’s. Was it just an overall more aggressive and violent night in downtown Bakersfield? Or was this ‘on the edge of danger unsafe feeling’ a result of the anger and violence I had just experienced at Jerry’s? Whatever the cause I was glad to be going home.

“Thanks for walking me to my car Kenny. You guys were great.” I said giving him a hug good night.

He waited until I was safely in my car and I waved to him as I drove away from a much darker hellish downtown night at Jerry's where the Filthies were the only glimmer of light in sight.  posted by Matildakay at 8:21 PM