In researching for this post, I did a lot of reading about the psuedo insane, drug addled, ups and downs of Roky Erickson’s life, and it did nothing to inspire me towards writing about his set tonight. Don’t get me wrong, there are some great reads about it out there, like Sean Maloney’s classic write up about robbing a craft store or the always fun caption contests, but that isn’t why I am sitting here penning (typing) this little ditty. I’m here to talk about Nude Beach.
I’ve been tracking the rise of Nude Beach for the past year or so, and I always find myself thoroughly in cheer with that effort. Nude Beach started out like most high school aged bands did, in the basement of the most tolerant set of parents. There you create a nice psychedelic garage pop sound, move to Brooklyn, circulate a cassette to anyone that will listen, sign to a label, record a new record, sign to a new label, rerelease previous efforts, and the blogs will tell the world that you are relevant because you make music that doesn’t suck. The next thing you know you find yourself touring with a probable legend from the above said tolerant parent’s dusty vinyl collection. If you don’t know Nude Beach, have a listen to “Some Kinda Love” & “Walkin’ Down My Street” below & then watch the beer-swilling tour video journal that accompanies “Radio”.
Things get started around 8pm, and you can grab your tickets here. If you decide to stick around for Roky Erickson, make sure you keep your wallet close at hand just in case Mr. Maloney is stalking around the crowd.
P.S. I tried to Google some sweet photos to add to this post, but everything I found violates the all ages clause that I was forced to sign when I started working for the evil editor of this rag.