Tyree Tears calls his “new” club Rent Party, because that’s what it has been for the last five years. Tyree, who has more friends in the scene than there are friendly people there to begin with, has been supporting his clubgoing lifestyle by having some of those pals play shows in his apartment, setting out a spread and some bottles, then splitting the door with the musicians.
When several acts mentioned that Tyree treated them better than several local bars did, and even started sending other bands his way, he saw the future. He held a week of back-to-back-to-back-to-back-to-back-to-back-to-back bookings, raised enough for a deposit on an abandoned loft at the corner of Mt. Cyllene and Epigoni Way, availed himself of some of the lawyers who drink at the Bullfinch.
So, how does the Bullfinch feel about all this? Great, just great. Who could foresee that?
Such a devoted scenester is Tyree Tears that he only wants his club to book shows on nights when nobody worthwhile is playing anywhere else in town. “Worthwhile” is of course loosely defined, but Tyree’s one of the best judges of worth the scene has seen in eons. First up, on Tuesday (expect a lot of shows on Tuesdays): The Copulating Snakes.
We check in later with notes on Rent Party’s décor and dress code. Tyree is prone to wearing priestess gowns, and promises to have a rack on hand so he can do several costume changes a night. He’s also vowed to hang many of his rare local LP and 45 covers on the walls as fine art.
“It’s my place,” Tyree proclaims. “Clean your ears and come on down!”
At the Bullfinch: Used to Thea’s and The Chennus, two of the wordiest bands around… Hamilton’s has He See Odd and Manto, rocking the overdone… At D’ollaire’s: An Evening With Polly Nice. Where she’s been, it’s not so nice…