Showing posts with label 2006. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2006. Show all posts

Friday, February 28, 2014

Flashback Friday


Poster for day one of Gilman's 20th anniversary, which took place on the last weekend in December of 2006. I was voted in as head booker about two weeks prior to this, and with two weeks left to go we had no show for that night (the two bookers who originally had the night kinda, sorta dropped the ball). Long story short, Ariel Awesome, Nicole Beyries, and myself booked this in about a week, which gave me a week to make a poster and flyer the Bay Area. Of course some of our haters (same 3-4 people that still talk shit today) talked shit on the entire weekend in the weeks following, like we had some kind of agenda with these bills, when in reality we all just felt a lot of pressure to not blow it, which could've easily happened.

Thursday, May 30, 2013

Time Warp: 2007

Check out this short video (very short) from the biggest Gilman show of 2007. It was my first time booking Joel's annual birthday weekend, which I did for a couple of years before handing it off to a fellow booker at some point.  This wasn't even the headliner, it's the last song (a cover) from our co-headliner that night, the Groovie Ghoulies.  Joel and I worked out a good system where he micromanaged one night, and I booked a more over the top version of his show the next night. This was the 'next night', headlined by Gravy Train.



Gilman's 20th Anniversary weekend took place a month prior to this, and the second show of that weekend turned out to be the biggest show of 2006 (at Gilman).  In a very short period of time, Gilman went from a club that was so unwilling to change that volunteers would often make statments at monthly membership meetings like, 'I'd rather we closed our doors for good than raise door prices', or 'If Gilman can't survive having 50 person shows, then maybe it's time to let it die', to a collective that was constantly looking forward, and eager to approve any changes that would allow Gilman to continue on long after most of us had moved on.