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4:00 pm, Saturday. Kirkland Ave. Cambridge, Ma. Nice warm day
"Holy shit! A parking space in front of the club" I made an emergency "U" turn and claimed my prize. Is there such a thing as a inner city night club with a parking lot? How cool would that be? If I could design a club, I would have a parking lot, free drinks for the band and a backline (you’re such a dreamer, Coraccio!)
Susan and I entered the club and to our surprise, found it fairly well attended for this early hour. I can’t tell you how weird it is playing a night club in the daytime. It seemed unnatural, but nevertheless, there we were at the Kirkland Lounge at four in the afternoon. Daylight invaded the venerable venue through that large picture window always at your drummer’s back, with the neon light that always made your amp buzz. We hung out and enjoyed talking with friends while a countryish band played a semi-acoustic set (love the mandolin).
Next was a rock band called "Slim and the Tank". My wife Susan dubbed them "Chin Spinach" because they all had it. They played with great enthusiasm for their very own cheering section who hooted and screamed every time the lead singer did a flying vocalist maneuver. We hit the bar and my bassist Mike Quirk ordered a ten dollar pitcher of Molson and filled our glasses twice. John Kelly’s wife Diana passed out the hugs and kisses. Rock fans Bob Colby and Bret Milano shook my hand. Miss Lyn and Helanie both looked damn good in the daylight. Local rock archivist Doug had his recording equipment all set up. The only thing left to do was close this sucker. The last time any of us will play the Kirkland Lounge!
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5:30 pm
The Boize sauntered onstage and played a quick set of short pop tunes. Just the way I like it. I was surprised at how ‘on time’ the event was. Club manager Mickey Bliss held the reins tight, signaling us when we had time for one more song. Same deal when The Last Ones played. Short set, "one more song" from Mickey and that was that. We were outta there, whipping down the highway with the top down on Susan‘s Chrysler. Hours later, we crossed the New York border and it suddenly hit me. The Kirkland is no more.
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Rock music reverberated and penetrated these walls for the last time. Yes, we are losing one of our rock clubs. Suck it up, Rick, get over it, happens all the time. That’s what I tell myself, but I still feel saddened by the loss. This particular club has been part of my life for so long. The Kirkland welcomed all my bands with open arms. I have always felt at ease here. I like the huge Black Russians and the clean bathrooms. I like the small, vocals-only P.A. Can’t hear the singer? Turn down your amp. Simple as that! I like Mickey Bliss. The guy has class. He has managed this venue honorably and I have never heard a bad word about him. Thank you Mickey. You have earned your place in Boston rock history. I’m sure it wasn’t easy doing what you did for so long. A large chunk of my musical life has happened here at the Kirkland. I’m gonna miss it bigtime. We all are. RC
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