Newspaper clipping of a review by Steve Garbarino in New York Newsday of Alex Chilton live at The Knitting Factory in New York City on October 17, 1991.
Behold: An artifact of one of my poorer gig-going decisions, though that's something I wouldn't actually realize until 25 years after the fact.
I ripped this review of the first show of a three-night stand at the Knitting Factory that Alex Chilton did in October 1991. Having just moved to New York City for college, and, freed from the restrictions of parental oversight and Bostonâs overzealous 21+ rock club policies, I was intent on seeing as many shows as possible. (See also: Crowded House.)
I had tickets for the third and final gig, a midnight show the same night this review was published. So I read this review with much interest as a preview of what to expect.
Was not attending all three nights the poor decision? Well, perhaps it was the runner-up poor decision, as I never again got the chance to see the talented Mr. Chilton (RIP).
No, the mistake I made that night was not bringing my tape recorder. Even though Iâd been taping up a storm that yearâand would in fact bring my recorder to that same venue less than a week later for American Music ClubâI left it at home. Maybe I was worried about being out that late at night alone with something that expensive? It was a midnight show, so Iâm sure I didnât get home until around 3am.
While at the time I didnât think much of this line in Steve Garbarinoâs review of the show:
Backhandedly apologizing for the lack of fresh materialââWhen was the last time you wrote 12 songs?"âhe nevertheless introduced a pair of newly penned standout tunes. âIn a Big Wayâ and âGirl, Youâre Fineâ are catchy pop-rock songs suggestive of Big Star and Squeeze. "Iâm writing really vacuous pop songs these days," he said.
The forehead-slapping moment came when reading this passage from Holly George-Warrenâs excellent Chilton biography, A Man Called Destruction, sometime in 2016 or 2017:
At a Knitting Factory performance in October, he played a couple of new originals, âIn a Big Wayâ and âGirl Youâre Fine.â Of these, he said, âIâm writing really vacuous pop songs these days.â But with no label to pay for tracking, the pair would go unrecorded.
âThe pair would go unrecorded?!â Well, damn. He almost surely played at least one of those two songs the night I saw him, and I could have been the one to record it.
Not being aware of the lost opportunity at the time, I simply enjoyed every last minute of that eclectic set, thrilling especially at the sound of the first few, unmistakable notes of âSeptember Gurls.â (Slightly less enjoyable: the dude who yelled out his request for âEl Goodo!â at every between-song break.) It was the one and only time I got to see Alex Chilton live, and thatâs certainly not a thing to regret.
