We all felt it, but it was Phil of the Philters who put it into words.
“They’d rather fight than play.”
That was the night when the Sock Pirates turned on each other for the last time, because their audience turned on them en masse.
The Sock Pirates were the latest ramshackle line-up of a band that we once revered and could not get enough of. It has descended to a tribute band of its former self, a band vainly attempting to stay at a level that wasn’t all that high to begin with.
We saw the S.P.s shoot out of the gate so fast we prophesied only great things. It’s OK that the band stalled. That happens. But a crash was avoidable.
Here’s what happened Thursday. Three fifths of the band was too drunk to play, one-fifth was offended by this and one-fifth let his apathy show. There was more cavorting and cajoling than there was music. Fart jokes, there were.
Sounded like this: Jabberjabberjabberjabberjabber. Thump thump thump. Braaahhhhpppp. Yawn.
Finally, and not soon enough, the audience got into the act. Displeasure was expressed on both sides. The band stopped playing altogether. Worse, nobody felt obliged to ask them to start again.
Thanks for the music, Sock Pirates. No thanks for the other stuff. Let us know if you get it together.
Tonight: The Stony Field Lite tour stop at D’ollaire’s has been postponed due to snow. … The Bullfinch has some kind of open mic. Maybe they should snow that out too. … Hamilton’s has a private party.