The sudden death of Terry Grob, the self-proclaimed
"eighth most-powerful man in the rock-and-roll industry,"
on Saturday, Sept. 2, gouged a hole in the Portland scene
that will be hard to fill. Although Grob had been, ah, "curating"
the nightly rock-and-roll grease fires at EJ's for
less than a year, his years of booking shows in the rusty
and depraved metropolis of Spokane, Wash., made him a well-known
and loved figure in Northwestern rock circles.
I barely knew Terry. He was never less than a perfect gentleman
in our professional interactions, and his regular email
updates frequently hit hilarity in their raving parodies
of the hype shamelessly spewed by most promoters. From my
uneducated perspective, Grob seemed like a guy who made
real sacrifices (choosing a life of relative poverty, hard
work and late nights in an industry rife with double-crossers
and ten-percenter scum) in order to pursue his version of
musical bliss.
For a more informed testimonial, I asked Kelly Gately
of the Fireballs of Freedom to write a few words.
The Fireballs played scads of Grob shows over the years,
first in Spokane, then in their adopted hometown of Portland.
Here goes:
Our rock and roll world took a devastating blow in the
passing of Terrence Grob. Terry was rock and roll. In propelling
the careers of many Spokane-area bands, he always gave the
underdogs their day in the sun. He was the only promoter
we ever met who cared more about the bands and their music
than lining his own pockets.
Terry never kissed your ass or took any shit. If your
band sucked that night, he'd tell you, but he'd always give
you another chance, and let you stay and party in his dinky
apartment while he sat alone in his room playing video chess.
He just wanted his bands to be happy. Terry had faith in
the music that he dedicated his life to, always keeping
a knife to the throat of an industry which is generally
based on glam and greed.
I'll never forget a freezing night in Spokane about
four years ago when a bartender at Ichabods North denied
a young bunch of Missoula hooligans their third "band" pitcher
of beer. When Terry caught wind of the travesty, he whipped
an empty pitcher against the wall and shouted, "If these
guys don't get more beer, I'll never book a show here ever
again." He crossed his arms, scratching his chin in trademark
Terry fashion, and smiled at us. We got our beer and Terry
received a hell of a show. I'll never see anything like
that again, because I'll never see Terry again. Goodbye,
we love you--
--Kelly Gately
Fireballs of Freedom
(Portland, Missoula, NoDak)
While on the subject of the Industry...North by Northwest,
the annual invasion of bands, shop-talkers and assorted
hangers-on, drops its fearsome hammer on Portland from Sept.
20 to 23. Next week's issue of this very newspaper will
contain the Official Guide and Hunting Manual for this year's
running of the bulls.
A couple of salient facts about this year's NXNW:
--A festival of short digital video films has grown from
the music fest's side, and four programs of shorts will
be shown at the Embassy Suites Hotel and two hepcat galleries
in Old Town at various times. See the Guide, next week,
for details.
--Wednesday night's lone show, at Berbati's Pan,
features L.A. emo hotlings At the Drive-In, subjects
of a recent buzz-hungry write-up in Spin and
a typically out-of-it review in The New York Times.
The band is noted for its over-the-edge live shows, which
convinced those wacky Marxists in Rage Against the Machine
to hire 'em on as tour openers this year.
--There are few tasks in the world of music journalism
less edifying than having to write and/or edit short previews
for some 300 bands. Anytime you have that much music in
a teetering pile, there's going to be some shit in the stack.
Fortunately, however, there are enough good bands--and a
fair sprinkling of great ones--to make the whole NXNW enterprise
worthwhile. In particular, Thursday night's lineup looks
very good: Brit-country Mekon hellraiser Rico
Bell, Portland songwriting sensation M. Ward,
a Roadcone Records double-play of experimenters Hochenkeit
and Rollerball, Seattle teenage rioters The Vogue,
San Diego's awesome GoGoGo Airheart and an ambitious
BSI Records dub showcase light up the goddamn night.
Again, see next week's Guide for details, recommendations,
savage damnations, hateful judgments and rabid praise.
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