“I had a son from a one-night stand but it turned out that I really liked him.”
Once upon a time, on a Wesleyan orientation week long ago, an enormous and very silly rap-rock group called Static Stamina was formed, consisting mostly of then-Butts residents, including Will Feinstein ’13, Stefan Skripak ’13, Nicole Lepre ’13, Adrien DeFontaine ’13, Jacob Eichengreen ’13, Nate Jacobs ’13, Danny Sullivan ’13, and Claire Dougherty ’13 (who I mostly remember shouting “STATIC MOTHA-FUCKIN STAMINA!” at shows). For a couple of practice sessions, our great leader Zachwas even present. Like the illustrious Beatles, Static Stamina demonstrated their power by growing in size every month of the year. Their high-octane act and somewhat obnoxious sense of humor created many memorable nights in my underclassman years.
There often comes a time when one must put away childish things, however, and when Static Stamina took the stage at the WestCo Cafe on Thursday, joined by Dink 583 and Tonsil Hockey, they had not played together under that name in probably two years. The present lineup of the band was uncertain, as many of the coeterie had gone on to play with Feinstein in bands like Chants, which won Awesomefest two years ago. Sam Ebb ’13, Jason Katzenstein ’13 (who is standing behind me and adding effusive copy about himself), and Danny Sullivan ’13 were also present. Feinstein told (warned?) the audience that Chants would appear at some indefinite point during the set; Chants is Spencer Burnham ’14, Ethan Young ’13, Defontaine, and Feinstein. They are a bit more punk-oriented, but many of the differences collapse in the face of Feinstein’s charisma, whether he is throwing kleenex and ripped-up pieces of Argus at audience members and shouting “You got an issue/tissue? Here’s a tissue/issue!” or suffering from an intentional short-term memory loss that causes him and the band to play a very short song called “My Son” eight times over the course of a set. Feinstein stood on top of various equipment and appeared to tower over the crowd, leading to gestures of devotion from them. A surprising number of current underclassmen were present; may they be inspired by this show to continue Wesleyan’s musical creative streak.
Dink-583, the best band on campus to offer interpretations (no, not “tributes,” you fool) of Blink-182 songs, made its triumphant return to Wesleyan Thursday night. They managed to play a raucous set despite drummer Kevin Curtin ’13’s ankle injury, and he even got a little help from his friends for one song (to use a gratuitous Beatles reference). Though the spacious, subterranean space of the WestCo Cafe seemed to keep the sweatiness at bay (and the naked strangers out), the band was in their underwear by the time I arrived, and much shirtlessness was observed in the audience as well.
Trill Will Feinstein ’13, of particularly impressive ‘fro and beard lately, contributed vocals on “Dick Lips”, and a particularly bold group of underclasspeople asserted their sweaty musculature in order to get up front and sing as well. (One girl appeared to be doing so using sign language, as she was not actually using the microphone but established an equivalent rapport with the audience).
On the negotiating-with-PSafe end of things, the event was also a success, lasting until midnight, the previously decided-upon stopping point.
If you’re like me and the thought of Blink-182 gives you an instant teen-angst-pop-punk boner, you probably wanna make your way to the WestCo Cafe tonight.
Dink-583, Wesleyan’s Blink-182 cover band featuring Jason Katzenstein ’13, Adrien DeFontaine ’13, and Kevin Curtin’13, will play their first show of the year tonight at 10:30. I’m told you should come on time, as they will be starting very promptly.
No, not the 50-year-old clothing-optional Middletown dudes with the hip-swinging gyrations and open wounds. Dink 583, Wesleyan’s premier Blink-182 cover band, emerged from the shadows of the infamous “Man Overboard” Incident last night in a Pine backyard, belting out “All The Small Things,” “What’s My Age Again,” “First Date,” and that weirdly sad one about divorce (plus a bunch more) to enthusiastic moshers and spirited partyfolk.
Turns out the best way to keep away the au naturale older crowd is by having your show outside a senior house in pleasantly crisp sub-50-degree autumn-evening weather. Good going! (Not that that really keeps out the M-Town felons. Or the MPD.) (But that’s a story for another 3 AM g-chat sesh.) (Or not.)
Click on for a few additional photos (most of them are by Rachel Pincus ’13), an “Anthem Part Two” video clip, and some choice excerpts from “All The Small Things”’s weirdly long Wiki page.