A follow-up to the Two Gallants’ drama. Just about every music outlet on the web has covered the incident, including Rollingstone.com and, of course, Pitchfork. And there are tons of blogs covering the fracas, including this one. Also as a result of the rigmarole, Thursday’s Lazy-i column will focus on YouTube and will mention the incident. Again, could Saddle Creek and Two Gallants ask for better (or at least, more) publicity, even if it costs the band some more jail time and/or fines? Guess that’s up to the band to decide…

Tonight at Sokol Underground Bonnie Prince Billy along with Dapose‘s Vverevvolf Grehv. Who remembers the last time Will Oldham came to town? I do. It was back in August 2001 at The Music Box. Simon Joyner opened the show, and Pinetop Seven did an amazing set. Oldham stumbled on stage last along with has band of very strange musicians. They created about 30 minutes of droning noise that featured Oldham mumbling words incoherently while some spook stood at the front of the stage and stared at the crowd (that appeared to be his only job, to be the official goon). Not one of the best shows of 2001, not by a long shot. But hey, that was five years ago. I’m sure things have gotten better for Oldham by then. He’s certainly turned out to be a helluva an actor (Junebug, Old Joy, etc.). And his new album, The Letting Go, has been getting raves. $15, 9 p.m. If you prefer to dance instead, drop in at O’Leaver’s for Chromatics, who’s playing tonight with Glass Candy and Eagle’s Blood. $5, 9:30 p.m.

–Got comments? Post ’em here.—

I received a number of emails over the weekend from outraged Houstonites who were there Friday night when Two Gallants got busted during a performance at Walter’s on Washington. Walter’s calls itself “the neighborhood bar that is also the best new live music venue in Houston.” Supposedly a few of those neighbors weren’t so happy with the noise level Friday night and called the cops. By the accounts I’ve received, what ensued was a police action that borders on Gestapo.

One member of the crowd, Lazy-i reader William G.K. Zhang, says it went down like this: “A policeman came into the venue and immediately got on stage. The policeman then started to confront Adam and after a short while, threw him down on the stage. The policeman then got up and immediately called for backup. The policeman also started thrashing around and destroying musical equipment. Afterwards, members from the crowd and the opening bands started confronting the police officer. The police officer then proceeded to harass and taze members of the crowd, including one 14-year old teenager. Adam then ran out of the venue and disappeared into the streets. Tyson was handcuffed and peacefully entered the police car. Soon, helicopters and police cars flooded into the venue parking lot. Arrests were made of members of the opening bands and dissenting crowd members.”

The local ABC affiliate filed this report, which originally stated the band attacked the cop. Ah, but the power of portable digital video cameras proved that those initial reports were, to say the least, questionable, and story has since been updated. Take a look a couple different videos of the incident on YouTube:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JxKQb03A0bw

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=40x2KghHX_A

Ugly. I ran into Saddle Creek’s Robb Nansel yesterday, who confirmed that the incident did indeed go down, and that Adam and Tyson didn’t get out of Houston till the next day, then booked it to Austin for their gig at Emo’s. Zhang said that among the casualties in the fray was Langhorne Slim’s 90-year-old bass, which got broken when the cop pushed a crowd member into it. Now there are reports that the neighbors never complained about the noise. And let’s be honest, isn’t it odd for a cop to storm the stage and try to take a guitar away from the musician? If you want the sound cut, you go to the sound board and start unplugging things. Strange, strange business. It’ll be even stranger when the Two Gallants make their return visit to Houston — to appear in court.

The Houston Chronicle weighs in with this account, where an HPD spokesman calls the policeman’s behavior “commendable.”

Zhang’s full account is now on the Two Gallants Wikipedia entry.

There’s another account on a witness’s myspace page:

And more comments at the Two Gallants forum.

Expect this story to be covered in all the usual music media over the next few days. Could Two Gallants ask for better publicity? Congratulations, Saddle Creek. And thanks to those who wrote in (Emily, William, John) to give me a head’s up.

* * *

There was a nice crowd at the Chin Up Chin Up show Saturday night at O’Leaver’s to hear a nice set from a nice indie 5-piece that plays nice, mid-tempo indie rock. I like Chin Up, but the set was less than riveting. To their credit, they got better as the set wore on, peaking with the final two songs.

Tonight at O’Leaver’s, Oakland-based indie heavy-metal trio Totimoshi takes the stage with Omaha’s own Lepers. $5, 9:30 p.m.

–Got comments? Post ’em here.—

Maybe 65 people were at Sokol Underground last night to see Protoculture play the best set I’ve ever heard them play. If you were around the stage, you saw the hi-jinx between the crowd and band, that at one point forced them to start a song over. Kooky. Great sound, though, and always fun to watch (though they didn’t play their Kite Pilot cover as drummer Koly Walter has promised.).

STNNNG had a tougher time. Halfway through their set, something went amiss with one of the guitar amps. It killed the momentum the band had gathered up to that point with their brand of hard-edged post-punk. Frontman Chris Besinger was in his usual bizarre form, looking like a dwarfish sex deviant straight out of Times Square circa 1971. With his scream-bark, leather gloves and piercing eyes, he looked like a homicidal street lunatic ranting at an imaginary friend, pointing and grimacing and storming around the stage. Meanwhile, a small moshpit formed up front, consisting of five or six young guys stomping around elbowing each other. Whatever happened to the slam-dance culture? STNNNG’s new songs are bleak, intense and filthy, at times creating an intense groove with Besinger playing the role of punk shaman. And man, it was loud.

Tonight at O’Leaver’s, Chin Up Chin Up, with Skull Fight and Electric Needle Room. $5, 9:30 p.m.

–Got comments? Post ’em here.—

Friday the 13th. Pretty scary. Is it safe to go out tonight? Well, if you do, there’s a great show down at Sokol Underground: STNNNG, The Protoculture, Bombardment Society and The Stay Awake all for just $8. I’m told that The Protoculture will be rolling out a new cover of a Kite Pilot song this evening. And if you haven’t seen Bombardment with new bass player Lincoln Dickison (The Monroes), well, you’re in for a treat.

If for some reason you’ve gone crazy and you don’t feel like driving downtown, Mark Mallman is “scheduled” to open a show at O’Leaver’s with Pendrakes and Jon Yeager Band. Ironically, I mentioned Mallman’s show to Chris Besinger of STNNNG, and he said if these two shows were going on simultaneously in Minneapolis, Mallman’s show would be the one to sell out. Please Note: Mallman’s O’Leaver’ show is not listed on his tour page. He was scheduled to play in Fargo last night and in Albuquerque tomorrow. The show’s promoter hasn’t been able to reach him to confirm tonight’s show, so caveat emptor on this one.

If you survive Friday the 13th, you may not be so lucky on the 14th, what with Skull Fight!, Chin Up Chin Up, and Electric Needle Room playing at O’Leaver’s. CUCU just released the long player This Harness Can’t Ride Anything on Suicide Squeeze. Skull Fight! is the new Cuterthans, but tougher, angrier, maybe not as smarter, but angrier (sort of). Electric Needle Room is one of the guys featured in my Joslyn column from a few weeks ago. I believe this will be his O’Leaver’s debut. Will he be great? Will he suck? Find out for $5.

* * *

A bit of Saddle Creek-related news to pass on: In an interview with Billboard (they’re getting all the scoops lately), Cursive’s Tim Kasher said that the band is writing a new album’s worth of music with the intention of hitting the studio in January for a fall release. Kasher also continues to work on his screenplay titled, “Help Wanted Nights.” Ain’t looking so good for us Good Life fans, as Kasher is unsure when he’ll return to that band. Read the whole story here. If you’re wondering how Cursive is doing on the road, here’s a colorful review of their show in Philly, that starts with “A man has found his way onto the stage of the Starlight Ballroom and he is very, very drunk.” and ends with “A smile deep across his face, Kasher thanks everyone post-sing-a-long, bending over and hugging the front row. His sincerity probably only half due to his drinking.” Glug-glug-glug…

–Got comments? Post ’em here.—

Column 96: What’s the Point?
The trouble with lists.

The core problem with creating a special “music issue” of The Reader that includes a “list” of the 20 “best bands” in the Omaha/Lincoln area is obvious. You’re forced to answer the question: “What’s the point?” Why place bands in a pecking order based on the (hopefully, though unlikely) well-informed opinion of a group of faceless critics who feel compelled to tell the public what is good and what isn’t?

The argument against such a list gets down to one undeniable fact: When it comes to art, competition sucks. It serves no purpose. It makes friends enemies. It creates pride, envy and doubt in the heart of the artists. It discourages as much as it encourages new art, new ideas, risk-taking.

And yet, “best of” lists and the endless string of award shows have become an acknowledged method of recognizing art and music in our culture, even though the determination of what’s good and what isn’t ultimately rests solely in the eyes and ears of the beholder. You can tell me a thousand times that something is great or something sucks, but in the end, I’ll decide for myself (Unless, of course, I’m a sheep).

So why do it? Why make a list of the best and a list of runners-up (and, by default, a list of those that didn’t make the lists)? The most obvious reason: Because it’s fun. It’s controversial. And most importantly, because people love their lists and awards. They need to have their opinions validated, to affirm that they, indeed, have “good taste.” So I guess it all comes down to ego, and doesn’t ego fuel all art? Perhaps, perhaps…

What I can tell you with extreme confidence is that no matter how Editor Andy and the rest of the staff cut it, the list will piss people off. Hell, I don’t even like the list. Where’s Mal Madrigal and Outlaw Con Bandana? Where’s Brimstone Howl? WHERE THE HELL IS THE MONROES?

But let’s start with the obvious complaint: Of the top 20 “best bands” 40 percent of them are Saddle Creek Records artists — Neva Dinova, Tilly and the Wall, Cursive, Criteria, Bright Eyes, The Faint, Ladyfinger and The Good Life. The discussion whether to include Saddle Creek bands was — to say the least — heated. The core arguments against it: They’re not local bands, they’re national bands that happen to live in Omaha. They’ve already “made it.” They’re mentioned constantly in the national press, why do they need any more recognition? Aren’t they all millionaires? Hell, they rarely even play in Omaha. And so on.

But to not include Saddle Creek artists would have made the list more pointless than it already is. Cursive and Bright Eyes and The Faint are Omaha bands — they live here, they interact with other local musicians, they go to local shows, they drink booze at O’Leaver’s and Sokol and The Brothers like the rest of us. They love Omaha or else they would have moved away a long, long time ago. But the most obvious argument: They’re the sole reason the Omaha music scene is recognized east of the Missouri River and west of Elkhorn.

Yeah, they’re successful, and they don’t need any more pats on the back. And I can pretty much promise you that the one-sheet included with Bright Eyes’ next release will not include the accolade, “Named one of Omaha’s top-20 bands of 2006 by The Reader.” But one-sheets for Anonymous American and Prospect Avenue and Jazzwholes might. How valuable is it for those bands to be on the same list as Saddle Creek acts in terms of just capturing the attention of an out-of-town club owner or small indie label?

Look, there’s no way The Reader was going to completely satisfy anyone with this list. And from that standpoint, it’s a failure before it was ever printed. But will it get people thinking, arguing, debating the music scene, defending their favorite band, discussing the merits of another, discovering a new band that they never heard before? Perhaps, perhaps…

So don’t get mad. Relax. It’s all in good fun. You already know that your favorite band is good, whether the idiots at The Reader know it or not. And maybe next year those asswipes will remember The Monroes and Mal Madrigal and everyone else that didn’t make the list. But somehow, I doubt it.

Had enough of those guitar-and-drum acts? You know, The White Stripes, The Black Dice, Two Gallants, and on and on? How ’bout an organ-and-drum duo? Now there’s a new twist. The Benevento-Russo Duo are just that. Organist Marco Benevento and drummer Joe Russo can go from loungy jazzy interludes to all-out cacophonous rock anthems in no time flat. The duo started out playing a weekly residency at The Knitting factory in NYC, and have since played everywhere from the Fuji Rockfest in Japan to SXSW to Bonnaroo. How did a Wurlitzer ever get so cool? $10, 9 p.m.

Yes, that STNNNG interview just went online (read it here). Frontman Chris Besinger was one of the better interviews I’ve had in recent weeks. Translated: He was funny and engaging, as opposed to dry and boring. In addition to mocking Wayne Coyne and Chris Machmuller, Besinger talked about his leather glove, his love of Omaha, his new and old albums, and why he does what he does.

On how all cities have both a good music scene and a crappy music scene: “You can’t have a good scene without a crappy scene, they feed off each other. Sometimes when you’re on tour you just end up in the crappy scene, which is usually the people who are willing to give out their shows. About a week afterward, you heard from someone from that town who says, ‘Oh, you really should have played with this band or at this club.'”

On chicks at shows: “There aren’t any. If we were all gay guys, that would be awesome, because there’s not a whole lot of babes at our shows.”

On the fact their their new record is a “concept album”: “It turned into a concept album accidentally, a concept that doesn’t make sense. It’s kind of about things and people or animals that are two conflicting things at the same time. It’s not like one of those weird, unwieldy Pete Townsend or Pink Floyd concepts. I don’t want people to think we’re Tool or the Mars Volta.”

On text messaging during shows: “We opened a show for a friend of ours and it was a much different crowd than we’re used to. There was this dude up front texting on his phone, three or four rows back. I just wanted to get that phone and throw it against the wall. We’re a loud, crazy, out-of-control band and you’re sending a text message? NO TEXTING!”

On owning his first house in Minneapolis: “It’s weird. You end up at weird times of the day thinking ‘I own this house? I’m in my kitchen. I own all this crap.'”

On Prince: “He’s still very much in the mindset in Minneapolis. Prince was at one of our shows, but when I say he was at one of our shows, it was more like he ended up at 7th St. Entrance after we finished playing.” He went on to say Grant Hart is another local legend that still hangs out around town. “You see him all the time.”

I don’t know how to lead this — I’ve been waiting for this show for a decade and finally, here it was. I was halfway afraid that no one would show up, this being Omaha, and this band being somewhat unknown due to the city’s lack of a college radio station. But my city didn’t disappoint me, and lo and behold, the Underground was sold out, packed with people that were, for the first time in recent memory, closer to my age than what you’d find at a typical indie show. Lots of old guys in graying ponytails, lots of middle-aged couples out for a wild night, and yes, also lots of young, urban indie fans paying homage to these legends, though overall, a completely different audience than, say, at a typical Creek show.

It was nice to see the entire band sitting behind the merch table while opening act, Why?, played their set of middle-of-the-road indie pop sung by a guy who sounded like John Flansburgh from They Might be Giants. Ira, looking like a cross between SNL’s Chris Parnell and monologist Eric Bogosian, even sold me my YLT T-shirt ($11, cheap!).

What to say about the show? Two hours, three encores, selections from throughout their catalog. Don’t ask me the songs’ names, because I don’t know them. There were a couple from the new record, including “Pass the Hatchet, I Think I’m Goodkind,” and “Mr. Tough.” A throbbing version of “Big Day Coming,” an ironically appropriate (if only because North Korea was probably preparing to test their first nuke at the time), revelatory take on “Nuclear War” (I didn’t realize that James McNew sung the lead), and a couple long, droning jams that were 20 minutes of throbbing organ and shrieking feedback guitar. Between it all were interspersed a few quiet songs featuring Georgia on vocals sounding like Nico, including encore “Tom Courtenay.”

This band is forever compared to Velvet Underground, and for good reason. Ira has the same, flat monotone voice as Lou Reed, Georgia vocally resembles Nico, and some of their music is reminiscent of VU’s live recordings, but really, no one sounds like YLT to me. Their style is all over the board, from raging indie jams to urban, falsetto R&B to quiet, acoustic ballads. For someone of diminutive size, Georgia Hubley was a monster behind the drum kit, joined at times on a second drum set by McNew, who also manned keyboards when he wasn’t on bass. The bass, incidentally, was numbingly loud. The set started tolerable; but after a few songs, I put in my earplugs, and by the end, the earplugs weren’t enough, especially from the front of the house. I don’t know how people standing next to me by the stack who didn’t have earplugs could take the noise level.

Among Ira’s between-song snappy patter: He acknowledged that last night was the first time YLT had ever been in Nebraska (though he admitted that he lied to one of the local journalists (who? wasn’t me) by telling him/her that they played in Lincoln before). He took a shot at the Omaha World-Herald when he introduced a Ramones cover: “I read in your paper — in one of the few articles that wasn’t about your football team — that today is Johnny Ramone’s birthday.” He asked the audience if they had any questions. Someone asked if the band would ever return to Omaha. “Well, we haven’t left yet,” Ira said, then added. “It’s too early to say.” Chances are, after last night’s show, they’ll probably return, but it could take another 20 years. For me, a top-five show of the year.

–Got comments? Post ’em here.—

The Brothers doesn’t do shows very often. Hardly at all, actually. The reason is simple: Tré, who runs the place, doesn’t need to. Drop in at The Brothers on any given Friday or Saturday night at around 10. Try to find a table. It’s always packed on weekends just on the strength of its service (You’re not going to have to wait for a beer), its rep (The Brothers is where bands go to get drunk when they’re not playing gigs), and its jukebox (punk and heavy indie and Omaha music from back in the day). So Tré doesn’t need bands to get butts in seats. But every once in a while, he sees an opportunity to put on a show that’s close to his heart, and last night was one of them. My point being: The Brothers ain’t exactly designed for live shows. Yet last night, the bands sounded better there than I’ve heard them anywhere else.

Take Ideal Cleaners. I saw them a few months ago at the Speed! Nebraska showcase at Sokol Underground, and they were good, they were fine. Last night they sounded like a different band. Listening to the trio rip through a set of bruising, welt-rising punk, I said to myself. “Okay, I get it.” I hadn’t really gotten it before, but last night they sounded ripped and raw, easily pushing the weight over their heads for a personal best. Ideal Cleaners sounded better than I’ve ever heard them sound. Better than they sound on record. Stripped down to sonic essentials, their songs bled bright red, and now I think I know what I’ve been missing. I have a feeling they come off just as straight-forward at Duffy’s, where I’ve never seen them play. So look, I don’t know a thing about sound engineering, but I can point to the fact that it was just their amps, the small PA and the bar’s low ceiling and wonder if that resulted in the dynamic tension. Simpler is better, almost always.

It carried on into The Monroes’ set. Has Lincoln Dickison ever played better? No. He was in his own special world last night. The hand-spiders (as Chris and Jamie from Ladyfinger describe his playing style) were running wild on the fretboard, crawling impossibly where other hand spiders rarely climb. Jon Taylor marveled to my left while unpacking T-shirts: “How does he do that?” and later from stage “He must have three hands.” He does it by being the best punk/rock guitarist in Omaha. Lincoln was just plain filthy last night, right down to the riff that powered the band’s cover of Husker Du’s “Divide and Conquer” (you know the one). And again, the sound mix was enormous.

So here’s where it gets weird. Mercy Rule was a band that was notorious for being one of the loudest acts in the Omaha/Lincoln circuit. Guitarist Jon Taylor didn’t just like it loud, he wanted to hurt you. Earplugs weren’t optional, they were required for your personal long-term health. So when Domestica took over The Brothers’ pseudo-stage, I was expecting to be blown completely away. In fact, the band sounded muted and muddy compared to The Cleaners and The Monroes. Certainly it wasn’t as loud as either of those bands. Disappointing? At first, yes. Anyone who’s ever heard Heidi Ore sing knows that it can be a challenge for her just to be heard over the din. And despite the lowering of the amps, her voice still was lost during the first few songs. Ah, but as the set wore on, my ears adjusted to the mix and everything came into better focus.

There are obvious similarities between Domestica and Mercy Rule songs, and that’s part of the charm. No one plays riffs quite like Taylor or has a similar tone. There is a layered, fluid quality to his sound that resonates through his constant, chopping chords. Jon’s guitar always seems to rise to the level of Heidi’s pure, honest, unaffected vocals. So yeah, the band sounds like Mercy Rule, in musicianship and in song structure — those big, chiming anthems that drop down halfway through, leaving Heidi singing alone while Jon plays a simple pinging line that moments later will roar again. Boz Hicks drumming is completely different than Ron Albertson’s. It’s more spare, simpler, more narrow, less likely to get in the way, not nearly as colorful, but right for this style. It’s going to take some getting used to because it ain’t Albertson, who’s precise fills and ballistic remarks are tough to forget.

As their set went on, they got stronger. Heidi’s voice got more comfortable and fuller and familiar with the style. Anyone who’s ever heard her voice before loves it. It’s hearing it for the first time that can be startling. Though at times lost in the mix, she hasn’t lost an ounce of what any Mercy Rule fan has always loved. Welcome back. That said, Domestica could pick up where Mercy Rule left off, if the band wanted to. But I don’t know if that’s what the want. For now, they just want to play together, rock out with their friends and enjoy making music. And that’s all right with me, as long as I can listen.

Tonight, Yo La Tengo at Sokol Underground. If the One Percent site is up-to-date (and it almost always is) then tickets are still available. Do yourself a favor and get down there tonight and see this legendary band. Considering that they’ve never played here before, chances are pretty good you may never ever get another chance.

–Got comments? Post ’em here.—

This marks one of the best weekends of shows in quite a while, but before I get to that, a couple points of clarification brought to my attention via the Webboard and other devices (See, people really do use my webboard, mainly to complain, but that’s okay, too). First, concerning Commander Venus, one of the former members of the band pointed out that I had the line-up wrong. Yes, while the lineup listed in yesterday’s blog entry was technically correct (for one tour), the folks who actually played on The Uneventful Vacation were Conor Oberst, Robb Nansel, Tim Kasher (of Cursive/The Good Life) and Matt Bowen, who’s been in a number of important bands, including The Faint. Matt also pointed out that Oberst was 17, not 14, during the CV days (He only looked like he was 14, apparently. He looks like he’s 17 now).

A couple people also pointed out my error in stating that The Dundee Dell no longer serves food. In reality, it’s the “old Dundee Dell” on Dodge St. that closed its kitchen, not the Dell on Underwood, which is the one that actually has the famous fish and chips. I’ve excised the error from yesterday’s blog entry. Apologies all around.

Moving on.

As I was saying, this could be one of the strongest weekends for shows in recent history. It starts Saturday night with two very hot shows:

First, Orenda Fink is playing a concert at The Healing Arts Center in the Old Market (at 1216 Howard to be precise), which, by the way, is a great place to see a show. Proceeds will benefit Filmstreams, the two-screen nonprofit indie movie house that’s going in as part of the Slowdown project (read about it here). Fink’s back-up band will consist of Adrianne Verhoeven, Dan McCarthy (McCarthy Trenching), and Corey Broman (ex-Statistics, ex-Kite Pilot). Suggested “donation” to get in is $25. The evening begins with an 8 p.m. cocktail hour (beer and root beer provided by Upstream Brewery, food and sangria provided by La Buvette). You’ll want to get there early, because space is limited.

Afterward (or after the game), truck on over to The Brothers for the debut of Domestica — Heidi Ore and Jon Taylor of Mercy Rule and Boz Hicks of Her Flyaway Manner. The show will be a veritable Speed! Nebraska showcase, with openers Ideal Cleaners and The Monroes. 9:30, $5.

And then, Sunday, the show I’ve been waiting for (we’ve all been waiting for, right?) for almost a decade: Yo La Tengo at Sokol Underground. Tickets are still available from onepercentproductions.com for $15. Don’t miss this important show.

–Got comments? Post ’em here.—

Column 95: The Smell of Rock
Is smoking part of rock ‘n’ roll?

Before we move forward, we must understand and agree on this one conceit: Smoking holds no value in a human being’s life. None. It is not essential for your continued existence. In fact, it’s unquestionably destructive. It shaves the very essence of life away from the individuals that imbibe in its behavior.

Anyone who smokes cigarettes knows this, and has known it from the first puff. Just like those who drink bottle after bottle of beer and/or wine know that their lives are in no way being enhanced by the activity. There is no argument for drinking alcohol, especially when the endeavor taken to excess results in inebriation, loss of reasonable judgment and motor skills, and a painful hangover. Anyone who drinks knows this, and has known it from their first under-age beer.

To say that second-hand smoke is more dangerous than the secondhand effects of a drunk smashing into your car is to ignore the fact that more people are killed driving than by almost any other activity, and that a huge number of those deaths are the result of drunken driving.

That said, smoking and drinking are a part of rock and roll right along with sex and drugs. Always have been. Always will be? Who knows, but probably, in some form or another, regardless of any awkwardly developed citywide ban that says it’s okay to smoke in some bars but not in others.

Part of the experience of going to rock shows for as long as I can remember has been going home afterward and stripping off my tar and nicotine-soaked clothing so as not to contaminate the sheets before passing out, then picking up my t-shirt in the morning and smelling the previous night’s stench. Now that’s rock and roll. And it’s going to become a thing of the past, eventually.

No one knows this more than the people who make a living performing in the smoke dens, but even among them, there is no agreement that the smoking ban is good or necessary.

Take Matt Whipkey, lead singer/guitarist of Anonymous American (Who, by the way, will be releasing a new album by the end of the year). Whipkey’s down with the smoking ban. “In terms of my personal dexterity, you smell better after you get done,” he said of playing gigs in smoke-free bars. “When playing out of state or at smoke-free places like The Zoo Bar (in Lincoln), I’m not absolutely disgusting afterward.”

Whipkey says the smoking ban might even bring more people to gigs, people who have avoided going to shows because they can’t stand the smoke. “Times are changing,” he said. “You can’t do it in Minneapolis, Lawrence, New York, Madison, California or Lincoln. I assume you can’t do it in most cities. It’s just how it goes.”

And then there’s Dave Goldberg, guitarist/keyboardist/drummer/vocalist of The Terminals (Who, by the way, have a new record coming out on Cleveland’s Dead Beat Records). “It’s like taking the smut out of Time’s Square,” he said of the ban. “I’m against it. Rock and roll is supposed to be bad for you. Smoking has been a part of it since its inception. And this is coming from a non-smoker.”

Forget about the sanitized confines of a smoke-free lounge. A punk from back in the day, Goldberg prefers the grime. “I’m partial to a seedy atmosphere, and smoking is definitely part of it,” he said. “I’ve gone to blues clubs for years now, and it seems to go hand-in-hand. Smoky rock clubs — it’s almost like that’s how it should be.”

Unlike Whipkey, Goldberg thinks the ban will have a negative impact on audiences. “In Lincoln, you noticed the effects immediately,” he said of the Capitol City’s ban, which has been around for almost a year. “Duffy’s, for example, has a beer garden, and a lot of times a band will be playing to a partially full or worse-sized audience on account of everyone being outside smoking.”

The one thing Whipkey and Goldberg do agree on: Playing in smoky bars has never impacted their performance quality, or so they think. “Part of my vocal style is the accumulation of secondhand smoke caked on my lungs over the years,” Whipkey said. “Maybe now I’ll sound like a choir boy.” Let’s hope not.

Goldberg, who just finished touring the country as drummer for theater-rock legend Thor, has played in both smoke and smoke-free environments. “I’ve never noticed a difference,” he said, “but I spent a lot of time in smoky bars, perhaps I’m used to it.”

So who’s right? Smoking is indefensible. Banning it in clubs like Sokol Underground will only save lives and keep my clothes and hair smelling better after a night of noise. But you know what? I’m still going to miss it.