Lucid Culture


Neither Super nor Fine

“Welcome to Superfine!” exclaimed the eager-beaver waitress with the microphone. “Tonight we have Blood Bliss and her new band Nightcall here for the first time!”

Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States, Hoobert Heever.

Superfine in Dumbo may be a fine drink destination late on a Saturday night if you’re in the neighborhood. They have random bands here, but as a venue it is suitable only for death metal. The roar of the yuppies and trendoids that greets customers as they enter is rivaled only by an indoor jet engine testing facility. Rush Limbaugh could have wandered naked among the tables handing out free Oxycontin while Paris Hilton shot up Roger Clemens in the ass with steroids onstage, and nobody would have paid the slightest attention.

We showed up to see Bliss Blood’s new project for the second time this week. Having anointed them the most exciting new band in town, it made sense to see if Nightcall could replicate the brilliance they showed at their previous show on Sunday. There was no way of knowing. Seated scarcely two feet from the stage, it was impossible to hear. The band seemed to be able to hear themselves to a certain extent, but when the loudest thing coming through the PA is amplified upright bass, you know something’s drastically wrong.

Which is too bad. Although the food is pricy, the waitstaff here is uncommonly nice – aside from the random server who appeared out of nowhere and stole an unfinished beer off our table. No doubt they’re used to people who order $12 cosmos and then don’t drink them.

June 15, 2007 Posted by | concert, Live Events, Music, music, concert, New York City, Rant, review, Reviews, rock music | , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments