Column 163: A Year of Waiting
Omaha club celebrates its first birthday.

A year ago, on the eve of opening what would become a center point of the Omaha music scene, Jim Johnson wasn’t sure The Waiting Room was going to work.

He, along with business partner Marc Leibowitz, couldn’t tell if the 250-capacity club nestled in the heart of downtown Benson would even be around a year later.

“You don’t know. How would you know?” Johnson said from his office located a flight up from the club’s main floor. “I truly think if anyone could have made it work, we could, but we didn’t know if a music club would work anywhere in Omaha, let alone in Benson.”

But it did work, even better than they had hoped. A year after a March 9 opening that featured Art in Manila, The 4th of July and Black Squirrels, The Waiting Room remains one of the city’s prime music venues. The club has hosted more than 250 shows including sold out gigs by local heroes The Faint, Bright Eyes and Cursive as well as national acts such as Okkervil River, The Black Lips and Roger Clyne & The Peacemakers (their biggest bar show yet).

Despite the trepidation, Johnson said The Waiting Room has done solid business from day one, consistently making its monthly revenue goals. But to do so meant having to adjust their business plan. The original idea was to both host live music and cater to a crowd of “regulars” who would patronize the bar even when no one was playing. It hasn’t quite worked out that way.

“We realized pretty early on that we needed to fill our calendar,” Johnson said, pointing to March and remarking that there are only two empty days on the schedule. “If we don’t have some sort of event, we don’t have any business. I thought we’d have a regulars crowd, but it hasn’t happened. It’s only been a year. I’m told it takes longer than a year to build that clientele.”

Part of the problem is that people have to do some work before they decide to drop in, he said. “You don’t know if you’ll have to pay a cover or sit through some band that you can’t stand,” he said. “First you have to go to our website or look in The Reader and see if we have an event.”

And not all of the club’s events involve rock bands. Johnson said as the first year wore on, the bar added promotions that he and Liebowitz never would have considered before they opened, including Guitar Hero contests, Wii Bowling nights, rock movie nights and most recently, Omaha’s version of Lincoln’s popular Shithook Karaoke called Girl Drink Drunk, wherein a member of the audience comes on stage and sings with a live band as they play covers of songs like The Cure’s “Boys Don’t Cry,” The Ramones’ “Blitzkrieg Bop” and Generation X’s “Ready, Steady, Go.”

The duo also strayed from their intended booking policy. Before they opened, they had planned on booking everything from country to jazz to reggae, not just the type of indie bands that made their other venture — One Percent Productions — such a huge success. But a year later and indie remains their bread and butter.

“I don’t think I agree with that,” Johnson said before studying that March calendar again and recanting. “Actually, this month does sort of look indie-heavy, doesn’t it. I still think we’ve done more of a variety of music here than ever before. Some of the country stuff just hasn’t worked. We haven’t given up on it.”

He called the club’s two Bastard Sons of Johnny Cash shows “disastrous.”

“I love that music, but it’s hard to get people out to those shows, especially on weekdays.” Why? “I guess because their fans are old and have to work in the morning.”

Johnson said the year’s low points involved the occasional show where attendance was terrible and the bands were a-holes. On the other hand, the high points included being exposed to music that he’d never considered before, and making a lot of new friends — especially the cadre of musicians and artists that also make Benson home.

Perhaps the most pleasant surprise was how well locating in Benson has worked out. Johnson pointed out that he and Leibowitz considered other locations. “I think we could have done it anywhere,” he said. “Benson ended up being the right move. With all the restaurants and shops, this area could become as hip as the Old Market.”

In fact, Johnson’s so certain of Benson’s potential that he and Leibowitz recently bought the building that houses The Waiting Room at 6212 Maple. The property also houses Edward Jones, Jake’s smoke shop and the soon-to-open Jake’s Tavern, a new comic book shop located in the empty bay next door and four apartments. They closed the deal a month ago.

“It’s something we always wanted to do,” Johnson said of their real estate venture, called Revamp LLC. “We wanted to have something that has substance. You can’t go wrong with real estate. The concert and bar business is a little scary. And if you’re going to work so hard for an area, it’s nice to own something there. It’s nice to have a little piece of Benson.”

One of the challenges faced by The Reader this week was how to handle the printing of the name Holy Fuck in its esteemed pages. Should they spell it out and let the chips fall where they may or alter the name in hopes of saving innocent minds from such a loathsome word? The final decision was the latter, and instead of Holy Fuck, you’ll see Holy F**k in the pages of this week’s Reader. The decision followed a similar approach taken by most other newspapers that featured the band (The most common approach was spelling it Holy F__k). Methinks the band finds the discussion over its name quite amusing.
Well, Lazy-i ain’t afraid of the letters U or C. Take a look for yourself, and while you’re at it, read about how the band formed, got its name and what it has in store for their show this coming Sunday (read it here). One little item of note that didn’t make it into the story: It’s nice to see a band that’s still thrilled by the little things, like Radiohead recently playing an HF track on BBC during their stint DJing a radio show in the UK. “Radiohead is one of my favorite bands,” said Holy Fuck’s Graham Walsh. “It was very surreal, very flattering to hear them even say our band’s name on the air. It was like ‘Wow, they know my band.’ That’s really cool. It’s certainly been a high point so far for the band.” He quickly added that the next high point will be playing again in Omaha.
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Tonight at The Waiting Room, it’s Brother Ali with Abstract Rude, Toki Wright and BK-One. Get all brushed up for tonight’s show by reading my 2003 interview with Brother Ali — a story that resulted in an angry shout-out by the MC during his Sokol Underground show that week. $12, 9 p.m.
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Column 162: Dirty Little Secrets
The dream lies beneath the masks.

If you’re an indie music fan, last Saturday night was another bonanza of choice found only here in the epicenter. Decisions, decisions. Do I go down to Slowdown for Neva Dinova’s last performance before they hit the road in support of You May Already Be Dreaming, the new full-length slated for release by the mothership known as Saddle Creek Records on April 8? Or do I schlep over to The Waiting Room for songstress Basia Bulat and members of Coyote Bones and Eagle*Seagull?

My answer was neither. Instead I turned my back on the warm embrace of midtown and downtown, retreated from the familiar climes of Omaha’s vibrant indie rock scene. I pulled my Sidekick out of the driveway and pointed it west.

I headed toward Glacier, a new lounge located a few blocks west of Wal-Mart on the Blair High Road, past the building that used to house the Skateland where I spent most of my weekends in my youth (Does anyone rollerskate any more?).

Part of a new strip mall that only a few years ago was rolling farmland, Glacier is a return to an old idea — the glitzy pick-up bar that features live music in the form of cover bands.

Tonight’s entertainment was a masked four-piece that goes by the name Captain Obvious. Their masks, however, didn’t do a good job of hiding their true identities. These were also the guys from what arguably is the best- or worst-named band in Omaha — 3 Day Meat Sale — a name that I’ve never quite understood. Lead guitarist Chad Beisheim is the kid-brother of one of my oldest friends from Fort Calhoun. Back when the band was just gearing up, they asked me to write their one-sheet. I told them that if I did, I could never write about their band in any publication. Conflict of interest. The merging of two very dissimilar worlds — PR and journalism — worlds that can never, ever collide. They agreed to the terms, and I found out that the name 3 Day Meat Sale was the result of a band member seeing the slogan in the window of a local grocery store, announcing three days of value pricing on the finest USDA Choice cuts. A 3 Day Meat Sale.

I still don’t like the name. But that hasn’t stopped 3DMS (as they’re also known) from making three albums over the past 10 years. They just finished recording their fourth with producer Jim Homan at Ware House Studios, which will be released sometime this spring or summer or whenever they get the cash together to have it pressed.

Which brings us back to Captain Obvious. To generate the necessary funds for the new album, the band donned masks and learned a spate of cover songs. It’s not uncharted territory for frontman Michael Gagliani, who used to sing in one of the area’s more popular cover bands, Stepchild. Now here he was again, belting out someone else’s songs. And from what I could see from within the standing-room-only crowd at Glacier, he was loving it.

Their flawlessly performed repertoire ranged from recent hits like All-American Rejects’ gag-a-licious “Dirty Little Secrets” to old chestnuts like Petty’s “American Girl.” But mostly it was up-tempo rockers that I’ve never heard before. Rarely have I felt so out of touch music wise. The crowd, on the other hand, didn’t care if they knew the songs or not. Packed onto the dance floor, amid a spiderweb of laser lights and a cloud of Aquanet, a drunken cross-section of West Omaha suburbia was shaking their collective groove thing. It was 1983 all over again.

Watching a cover band (and not a tribute band — there is a difference) is a dose of reality that I recommend to any indie music follower. You will be reminded that the people who make up the greater world beyond us — not the ones that drink coffee at Blue Line or browse through vinyl at The Antiquarium or wait alongside you at Slowdown’s bar — do not give two shits about your precious indie music. They just want to dance. I looked across the sea of well-coiffed heads, I wondered how many had heard of Saddle Creek Records or Neva Dinova or even knew what indie music was. The answer seemed, well, obvious. It was a stark contrast from the typical angst-fueled indie crowd that I’ve seen intently watch bands in stone silence, as if a secret is about to be revealed, but never is.

Afterward, Chad explained the financial reality that drives Captain Obvious. He and the rest of 3DMS learned the same dirty little secret that every local band — indie or otherwise — eventually discovers: There isn’t much money in playing original music.

He said 3DMS rarely made a dime on a show, while Captain Obvious would make good cash for the night’s performance. “I guess you could say that we’re selling out,” Beisheim said. “That’s why we’re wearing the masks.”

Selling out? Maybe, maybe not. Chad and the rest of the band may not be proud of what they’re doing, but they’re having a good time. And they’re getting paid for it. And they still have their own thing — their main thing — that they can hang their dreams on after they take off their masks.

The most surprising thing about Mick’s birthday concert Friday night was how well the bands sounded after being in mothballs for so many years. Janglepop, which broke up sometime earlier this century, sounded no different than I remembered. Actually, they sounded somewhat better on The Waiting Room’s stage. The Get also sounded tight, but I’ll be honest with you, I never really followed any of these defacto old school “Slam Bands.” That includes Musico, who everyone seemed most excited about seeing again. Darren Keen and the boys also sounded as good as I remembered the one time I saw them back in the day. The bottom line: the enormous crowd (which was like walking through a class reunion or a wedding reception) loved every minute of it.

Saturday night was spent slumming, and I may or may not go into great detail about it in this week’s column (which I have yet to formulate). Let’s just say I spent the evening “out west,” and that the entertainment had nothing to do with indie music.

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Tonight — two rather huge shows for a Monday. At The Waiting Room it’s Har Mar Superstar with Little Brazil and Talkin’ Mountain, all for $8. This one could (and probably will) sell out. Meanwhile, down at Slowdown, it’s Team Love’s most recent addition — The Felice Brothers — opening for Drive By Truckers. $20, 9 p.m.

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