Summertime dues: In response to T.R. Witcher’s article regarding the under-21 crowds in Westport (“Covert Curfew,” May 16), I don’t see why the issue is even being debated. Everyone over the age of 21 who has been to Westport after hours knows that there is only one reason to stay: bars.
If the only businesses that are open (with the exception of the grocery store down the street) are, by law, not permitted to allow entrance to anyone under the age of 21, then why should there be minors going to Westport late at night, anyway? What’s in Westport for them besides a food stand and a parking lot or two? I remember having better ways to spend my time before I was 21 than standing in the street. What’s the point?
Kansas City, Kansas
A Boss He Loved
Chef’s choice: Regarding Charles Ferruzza’s Mouthing Off (“Aw, Shucks,” May 9): I have been in the restaurant business for twenty years. From 1989-1992, I worked at Venue as a waiter. I never had or saw a problem with Dennis Kaniger at all. He and his wife Gabrielle were the best restaurant owners I have ever worked for!
Dennis is truly the best chef and the most talented. I would work for them again in a moment.
Kansas City, Missouri
Flowery prose: Thank you for Geoff Harkness’ critique of the new album of the Band That Saved the World (May 9). It’s better to get some response rather than the lame-ass lack thereof that exudes from the too-cool majority of local music aficionados.
However, the actual flowery prose that graces the song “Lasso the Moon” is as follows: If wishes were raindrops, we’d swim everywhere, for the roads would be flooded with dreams. That’s flooded with dreams, not covered with streams, a decisively less appealing observation. Also, I fear, there is no redemption for my “patchouli-scented” philosophy, for I am not the one singing on “Let You Go”; that would be our other singer: Reverend Aaron Morris. (FYI: Rev also sings “Funkbus” and “Changes” and does some spoken word on “Villa Heights” and “Love-n-Music.”)
Please don’t get me wrong — though the relationship between the artist and critic is infamous for its mutual hostility, I’m heartily grateful for Harkness’ candid opinion of our material. To switch now to a strictly artist-to-listener reply, I’m sorry he didn’t care for our more open-hearted material. We agreed that the critics would probably rip us one for the stuff, but we went ahead with it nonetheless, opting for a more honest representation of the feelings that were mulling about the band during the time we believed the album would be our “swan song.”
Hatchet job: I’ve been boiling the past few weeks over Geoff Harkness’ wonderful little piece on Lizzy Borden (Up & Coming, April 18). Considering I’m the one who brought Lizzy here, I feel I should have the right to rip him a new asshole, like he did my show (you punk)!
I don’t need him to tell me what good music is and what shows to attend. Though he is right: Lizzy never caught on with the spandex hair crowd. Thank God for that! The only people you can compare him to are his influences: David Bowie, Kiss and Alice Cooper, just to name a few. Of course, Harkness probably wasn’t even alive in the ’70s! And another thing — don’t you ever compare Lizzy to Slipknot or Mushroomhead again, or there will be blood, for real! And just for your information, Lizzy was on Metal Blade records long before Mushroomhead.
I don’t take kindly to my show being completely thrashed just ’cause Harkness has a pen and an outlet. He is f!&ked if he didn’t ever stop to think that somebody might have money riding on that show, somebody like me — a hardworking, struggling promoter with very little cash. For those who took Harkness’ advice and didn’t come to the show, they are the ones who missed a killer show. To all who did show up, despite Mr. Harkness’ best effort to stop you: I thank you, Lizzy thanks you, and there are more shows to come! As for Geoff Harkness and his job as a critic at the Pitch: give him the ax!
P.S. Lizzy sends his love and says, “Thank you KC! You ROCK! Suckers!”
Tim Sweeten (The Infamous Father Fa-Q)