Reminiscing days – A long time ago, I was a snotty young fuck who decided to blow off the parents’ house on Easter Sunday night and go see Australia’s The Birthday Party at a small club in Chicago, where I was upraised.
Easter Sunday 1983, and the club was Tut’s on Belmont.
Being raised Catholic in Chicago like 99% of the kids, I had fairly tender ears and mindset, even after punk had swarmed my sensibilities. But on this Easter Sunday, the sight of a black clad Nick Cave and the Birthday Party was horrifying and exhilirating. “Hands up – who wants to die?” he roared into the microphone starting “Sonny’s Burning”, with a galloping beat behind it sounding like Satan’s army charging towards us.
One helluva rock show, one scary God/devil night and a fond memory. Happy Easter.