//WEEKENDER: Eli, Eli, Lema Sabachthani?

Well THAT was interesting. After all, it was Devil’s Night, so something untamed and out of the ordinary was bound to occur.

Halloween was my first time attending a bham.fm event– and it was also my first time to see Eli, a band I was stoked about both on the avid recommendation of our chief editor Whitney and the inanity of the interview with Phil on their Local Locals spot. Heavy shoegaze? C’mon, I’m in!

I worked later than expected, so I missed all the music leading up to Eli, but from the moment they began playing, I felt like I was going to get my show’s worth anyway. That is, until the plug was pulled during their third song/movement.

Wait, what?!

You heard right; for the first time in bham.fm show history, one of our bands was excused from the venue.

You see, shoegaze is typically, um, LOUD. And bars are also generally, y’know, LOUD. Plus it’s a rock show, which is typically LOUD. Thus, conventional wisdom would tell you that patrons may have anticipated the aural assault that was Eli. Alas, earplugs were not included in most of our attendees’ costumes, and so there was a mass exodus of would-be keg-floaters and bar-closers who could not withstand the barrage of drones, overtones, and harmonic riffage. Naturally, the bartender was concerned about business leaving the bar and asked Eli to take things down a notch or ten. But, in what one beer-laden patron’s mind could only be perceived as a Devil’s Night prank, Eli marched on, amps cranked to 11 nonetheless.

That’s when things went awry.

From what this humble observer, who had already consumed two tall-boys of PBR (or as I was calling them, true to my costume, “Pawtucket Patriot”), can tell you, the bartender claimed to have asked for some slack on the volume on three different occasions, with no compliance. The band claims that the bartender then tried to physically turn down/off one of the guitarist’s guitars/amps, and he did not respond in kind to the perceived intrusion, to put it mildly. A heated verbal exchange ensued, but the band went on to what would have been their third song in the set.

It would have been the third, but it was cut short when the bartender yelled: “YOU’RE DONE! GET OUT OF THIS BAR!” More heated verbal exchanges came, followed by a brief shoving match and a near bar brawl. The drummer managed to hammer out a grind beat before totally calling it quits, and the would-be frontman of the group thanked everyone and reminded them that they were called Eli. This awkward announcement elicited the most applause I had heard all night. So it seems to be true that bad publicity is good publicity.

And Chris told me our shows are usually so pleasant and drama-free. Remind us to book an “Evening with Bright Henry” next time we put one of our shindigs on at Speakeasy.

So, our show ended rather abruptly, the bands packed and left, and those who dared to remain in attendance (or perhaps were too intoxicated to leave, or care about what happened) did so, and merrily. But what of those who left, either due to the noise or the fighting? If you were among our attendees, please comment and tell us what went down in your eyes, and your take on the matter.