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PapaSweenBean’s Friday Night – The Hangar

Written by Staff on May 11, 2024

PapaSweenBean’s Friday Night – The Hangar – by Liam Sweeny.

It was warm tonight. I thought it was warm, but Smittix said there was a chill. There was also a Sherriff’s star-and-circle on the back of his D.A.R.E. shirt, so maybe that’s why he covered up. Didn’t want people at the Hangar to think their dance moves were gonna get clocked by radar.

Yes. The Hangar on the Hudson. Across from the stalwart establishment known as the Ale House, the Hangar looks very much like a hangar that could fit an old-timey bi-plane, maybe a Cessna, but the wings would be the sticking, or fitting point. Also, there’s no way to get them out. Really it was a prosthetic supply place, turned into a concert space.

I’ll say that we’re following a part of a trend here; maybe we’ve come full circle. I started writing these Friday Night reviews looking for Matty D, and this was his birthday, and his band, Ginger Geezus’s show. And where was Sween? Nowhere to be found.

So short story long, I planned on coming to a show featuring friend-bands Curious Comet, Jennifer Tefft, and, of course, Ginger Geezus. But I had another show to go to called Familial Responsibilities, that started at 9pm sharp. No sweat, because Ginger Geezus would be up before the time I had to bounce.

Then the place gets packed like Houdini pulling a breeding pair of rabbits out of his hat and dusting them with Rhinoceros horn. First a trickle, then I’m knocking elbows everywhere I go.

Curious Comet, with singer and guitarist Niki Kaos and guitarist Bob Donald laid down something melodic yet driving, with Niki’s vocal power complemented by Donald’s smooth command of well-placed rhythms and lead lines. A good thing about a band is when no one thing carries because it all carries. And that was Curious Comet.

People were everywhere. The show floor was packed tight, and the backyard body count could’ve been a good take for a show if it was just those people. Because one of the things the old stodgy arts and entertainment writers – you know the type – one of the things they don’t cover is the sweet AirBnB cabin that Megan is working on, or the juggling out in the parking lot, or the weeping and gnashing of teeth over the loss of Denny’s.

I met people I hadn’t seen in twenty years hanging out with people I hadn’t seen in twenty days. I heard Jennifer Tefft pour sweet adrenaline into the front row and soak legs in boogie woogie and the people fucking danced, man. Oh, and the bartenders were Jedi’s slinging cans of IPA and bottles of Chardonnay. And Joanne rocked the merch table, slinging wares to passerby with the keen eye of a Midwestern carney.

But of course, I missed Ginger Geezus. But I know, I absolutely know, it was wild. Matty D packed the house for real, and with a “zero fucks” coin I gave him for his birthday, he truly had zero fucks to give. And I have no doubt he gave them.

By the time you read this, I’ll have watched Ginger Geezus’s set, and I’ll have kicked some wear into the seat of my dungarees.

But all in all, a great time and a great show. And I was proud to don my nifty new Radioradiox black tee shirt. Props to Art Fredette and Rob Smittix, and all of the band members. And all of the crowd.