The Cooler, NYC
New York, NY, 12 May 2001
Review by Cassie Carter
Wow.
It’s 3:30am (5/13/01) and I just got home from the most amazing evening. I took a taxi downtown at around 10pm . . . the night began perfectly with a ride down Fifth Avenue with the breeze coming in and all the trees green along Central Park, dark windows on exquisite townhouses . . . on down past the Plaza Hotel and postmodern high fashion . . . cubic zirconia in 18th-century settings . . . past St. Patrick’s Cathedral (against a backdrop of skyscrapers) and Saks . . . it was really beautiful. Getting down into the 40s and below, Fifth Ave gets tacky . . . yellow and red lettered plastic signs, scaffolding . . . turn right on 14th Street and head West . . . construction, busses . . . get out between 9th & 10th Avenues . . . can’t find the damn club. Walk up and down, ask directions. Right across the street, the man says. It looks like a warehouse except for a little awning that says “Live Music.” Cross the street, go in, head downstairs . . .
Little bar area with Gerard Malanga‘s photos hanging everywhere. I make a mental note that the flyer for the show has an early photo of Jim. I walk into the performance area, where a band is setting up and a small crowd is hanging around, then go back to the bar and order a beer. While doing that, I notice Jim at the other end of the bar talking animatedly to someone I don’t recognize. I go over and say hello. Jim introduces me to . . . Gerard Malanga! I go back in to the performance area and stand around for a while, until somebody leaves and I’m able to grab a seat. The band comes on . . . I didn’t know who they were, but I liked them . . . reminded me of Joy Division for some reason. I’m getting into it when I look to my right and see Lenny Kaye standing there, also apparently getting into it. I turn back to the band then look to my right again and see Jim looking around . . . grab his sleeve . . . he’s looking for me. “This is Tina,” he says; “she’s looking for me.” Only later I realize I misheard him under the din of the band–her name is Dana and she is the woman who booked the show.
Eventually the band ends its set. I move my chair up to the center of the room so I’ll be able to see better. A long setup ensues. A table containing a pile of electronics is placed slightly off-center on the stage and I watch a guy do an elaborate sound check. I’m thinking . . . the sound board is ON the stage? More waiting. I head to the bathroom, and as soon as I get there, I hear, “I’m Lee Renaldo, and I’m going to do one piece, then Jim Carroll will come on.” I hurry back to my chair. Lee Renaldo . . . the guy doing the sound check! . . . reads sort of a list poem . . . derogatory names, insults . . . gradually modulating his voice with the collection of electronics on the table. It is amazing. The noise grows and grows; his voice becomes more and more distorted until it is completely eclipsed by the electronic noise. The noise becomes a wall of sound . . . all different sounds . . . and I realize that all of the sounds are his voice modulated and fed back via the machinery on the table. My jaw is hanging open . . . I wanted to tape it, but I knew there was no way it would come out even close to what it sounded like in person. And it was so amazing to watch him control the machines, taking new machines out of boxes, plugging them in, tweaking the sound with them for a while, unplugging them, plugging in others, adding new sounds, reading from sheets of paper that he threw on the floor as he finished reading them. Wow. I would have gone to see that alone!
Then more waiting. I’m looking around to see if I can find anyone from this list and looking for Dana . . . no luck. I notice three microphones are set up on stage and I think, my god, maybe Lee Renaldo will join Jim and Lenny Kaye for a song! (That ended up not happening, but I thought it was a possibility because he did “Woman” with Jim and Lenny on the Kerouac tribute Kicks Joy Darkness.) I’m thinking, this is absolutely perfect . . . all that’s needed is for Gerard Malanga to sail in here with his camera . . . and just like magic, here comes Gerard Malanga with his camera. He positions himself just off the side of the stage on the floor. As I told Gerard afterwards, at that point I wished I’d brought my camera so I could photograph Gerard Malanga photographing Jim Carroll. Damn. More waiting. Finally, without fanfare, Jim appeared onstage . . . the crowd had grown to a pretty good volume by then and more people suddenly crowded in from the bar area. As usual, Jim didn’t acknowledge the audience at all as he unpacked his books and laid them out on the table at the back of the stage. Everything in order, he approached the microphone and said, putting on his glasses, “I’m sorry . . . if I appear to be unprepared . . . I am.” He went on to explain that earlier in the day he had been prepared, but that he’d been backstage talking to “my good friend and yours, Lenny Kaye,” and that he’d had two margaritas, his limit being maybe one and a half. He then went on to say he’d thought he would do this new monologue he’s been working on about beds, but he what was so clear earlier was now fuzzy . . . and, need I say it? he then launched into the monologue, which starts with the problem of his current bed, which is a platform bed that is . . . too low. I won’t offer details on this until others have had a chance to hear it. (If he doesn’t do it again within the next few months, somebody please remind me to share it.) Following the monologue, he read what he refers to in private as “the bunny story,” but which now has a tentative, formal title: “The Snake People.” This is a new piece from “The Petting Zoo,” and he began with a quick recap of the story of the raven (listen to full-length 1991 version on the Audio Library page). Again, I won’t spoil this new piece for those who haven’t yet heard it. Wrapping up the bunny story, Jim read a few poems from Void of Course: “Facts,” “Female as Thunder,” “Zeno’s Law of High-Heel Shoes,” and “Jukebox” (I’ll have to double check with my tape). Then he brought out Lenny. They started with “Wicked Gravity,” then “I Want the Angel,” and “Still Life,” closing with “Sweet Jane.”
Wow.
I’m not sure what more to say about it, but I hope the fact that I am writing this NOW says a lot. The performance wasn’t perfect in any technical sense, but that’s a good thing–I tend to feel somewhat disturbed when a Jim Carroll performance is technically perfect. As I’ve said many times, I love the tightrope walk.After the show, I talked to Dana and her friend for a while then went backstage, where Jim was talking to Gerard Malanga with a guy from Paris Review named Tom Moffett and a photographer named Stafano Giovannini looking on. Jim introduced me to everyone and I sat back and listened, as I always do. After about half an hour the group broke up and Tom Moffett and I headed out with Jim. We walked to 8th Avenue then went our separate ways. Yes, this was an amazing evening.