Funny how the things we take for granted, or fail to fully appreciate, later become the things that give life shape and texture. I will never forget the first time I saw Phil & The Blanks. It was at a club called the "U Club" in Norman, OK and I think it was the grand opening. It was like stepping into a John Hughes film, before that was an iconic place to be. A good friend had been telling me about this club and the band that would be performing there. It was within walking distance (not that we ever actually walked) of my apartment. Not really sure what the atmosphere would be, I was not sure whether my dance shoes would be needed or more laid back attire, to watch a live band. It turned out to be the latter, but that was an easily forgotten side-note to many incredible nights.
The atmosphere started right at the front door, where I saw my first faux-hawk. This combination of a Mohawk and some sort of curl (which I will resist the temptation to characterize) was pretty impressive to this Oklahoma City kid. My imagination had not yet ventured beyond bland Afro or a clean-shaved head. Keep in mind, this is the 1980's and I am talking about a black guy with Flock of Seagulls-styled hair. Not many people could pull that off. This doorman did it with ease.
Who had the audacity to open a night club on the east side of Norman? Slightly farther away from the OU college campus than seemed practical and, because it was in the opposite direction from the interstate, seemingly in an odd spot for a night club. Not sure what to expect, both my friend and I played it safe with basic Harold's attire.
Harold's was a mens clothier, on campus corner at the University of Oklahoma , the likes of which seems impossible to find in 2013. It was required living (for many OU students and former students) in the 1980's. From my first time inside this store, I thought it would be a part of my life forever. Two words: "Shut" "Up". Who would have thought? A clothier where a person could be measured and tailored to fit, on the corner of a college campus. What's more, they offered bottled Coca-cola to their customers, at no extra charge. Really, they could have offered a 100 level college course in fashion basics. I had finally found a place, where seemingly anything from the fashion pages of GQ could be obtained. I mean, who knew that wool came in light, medium, and winter weights? Not I! Who knew that the plaid patterns actually had names, like tartan, glen, and my personal favorite, black-watch? I was very familiar with the characteristics of cotton; washable and low maintenance. But I was not aware that other fabrics, like rayon and linen, had pros and cons too. Most important, who knew that buying higher quality clothing meant that 25 years later, I would still have some of this clothing around (and as comfortable as ever). Someone should have offered an entry level course in this stuff, Harold's 101. I took it, but my transcript never seemed to show my credits.
Pardon my digression. As I was saying, Harold's attire was a safe bet for most things and this night club was no exception. Denim shirts, dress pants, and Cole Haan shoes seemed to be the order of this and many nights to come. My friend and I were both safely adorned with the correct attire on many such nights, but I took pride in venturing off the map from time to time. Nothing like mixing in some brightly colored plaid pants to bring out those looks that seemed to say, "who is this clown"? (See Andre 3000 on the interior cover of the Speakerboxx album).
Truth be told, I took a peek or two at the front door, trying to see who this guy was with the confidence to wear a faux-hawk. I would later find out that he was a Norman High graduate, who was friends not only with the club owner and band, but with a large number of what became "the regulars". While the doorman was cool, at least in my book, the show-stopper on this night would be the most understated band I had seen to this point in my young life. With a name like Phil & The Blanks, I was fully prepared to be underwhelmed. When they took the stage, dressed like everyone else in the club, I expected a dud. Instead, I was treated to a night of songs from beyond my own expanded repertoire. I would later find that most of these songs were not originals, as I had thought, but were from European bands, some of whom I was not yet familiar. Songs with lyrics that could and did take me to places far beyond the fours walls of the "U Club". As someone who had loved music for as long as I could remember, it was an unbelievable experience to hear mellow songs in succession that lulled the crowd, and me, into a non-drug-induced state of chill-laxed. Okay, maybe we weren't quite chill-laxed in the 80's, but the music was.
Later this same year, I would be treated to the Dallas, TX version of our little club, complete with unisex bathrooms and people who fully appreciated the Robert Smith character before I knew he existed. On this night, however, I would happily settle for the lyrics and riffs of some of my future favorites:
"say goodbye on a night like this
if its the last thing we ever do
you never looked as lost as this
sometimes it doesn't even look like you
It goes dark, it goes darker still
please stay
and I watch you like I'm made of stone
as you walk away"
At a time when hard hitting riffs seemed to be the order of the day, epicurean and esoteric lyrics quickly became my preference. Songs that left me wondering if the meaning I found was the intended meaning of the writer. Apparently, I was not the only one who felt this way, because the original songs from the band seemed to follow this same quirky style and there was no shortage of applause when each song ended. Songs with relaxing rhythms and dramatic lyrics seemed to flow all night from a 4/5 piece band, which included a keyboard on songs that required one.
"bring on the dancing horses
headless and all alone
shiver and say the words
to every lie you've heard
first I'm gonna make it
then I'm gonna break it till it falls apart
hating all the faking
and I'm shaking
while I'm breaking your brittle heart"
Somewhere in my mind, there was a world where it would be possible to live in this space and time forever. Three point two was the number that opened the door to that world, on this night. Once inside, I was forced to confront a reality that still remains true to this day, at least for me. Sometimes a bar stool and a band were as good as life got. A place where the music captured more than riffs and lyrics and atmosphere. A place where common bonds are easily forged through shared amazement with uncommon vocal talent or good lyrics over great music. Most importantly, a place where people, including myself, let their guards down just long enough to find the good in the person on the next bar stool (or sofa, when those seats were available). If only we could somehow capture these moments and sprinkle them into the monotony that would surely return with the coming days lectures, test, and homework. What would it be like to venture onto the other end of the pen that wrote lyrics describing the great escape that we had found, but could only manage to capture for a few fleeting moments on nights like this.
" I was on the outside when you said
you said you needed me
I was looking at myself
I was blind, I could not see
A boy tries hard to be a man
his mother takes him by the hand
If he stops to think, he starts to cry
oh why?"
For this semester, The "U Club" was our escape into music. Our tour guide was Phil & The Blanks, who would remain on the scene well after the "U Club" vanished. Lesson: Some time wasted can turn into time well spent and great memories.
Songs above:
1) The Cure from the album Head on The Door (1985)
2) Echo & The Bunnymen from the album Songs to Learn and Sing (1985)
3) U2 from the album Boy (1980)
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