Arcata Eye Scene

A-town art, music, theatre. Mostly music. Updated Wednesdays.

Daniel Lewis: Rock and a Hard Place – April 22, 2008

I realized that I was in trouble when after a long exaggerated rant about the elitist piety of MRR and their rejection of my Eureka/Arcata scene report, I was asked, “Well, what is the “SCENE”?” At that very instant I gasped!

That is no lie. I honestly caught a large gulp of air into my lungs and swallowed it. The sound of which went, “GASP!” At which point I gasped again at my own gasping, which startled me. I am not one to do such things. I am more of a PSSSSSSHHAW! fellow myself. “What is the SCENE?” you would ask and I would say, “PSSSSSSSSHAW, my good man! Why, just look around you! Take a gander at all of this mighty scene.”

Ahhh… but, now, now there is a quest to find it. There is an adventure in the midst of a question, a heroic valiant effort. A safari in which I tend to track down the very elusive but most sought after Scene. I will then take it to my secret laboratory and begin the dissection. Finding its components. Figuring its functions.

Greasing cogs and dismantling wheels…my, that sounds dirty, but in fact, it is the very opposite. Like any good romantic knows, before a conquest of this magnitude it is best to first disinfect. I am no heretic.

Hup. Hup. Let me not digress for the time is drawing nigh to ponder the essence of the Scene. What does it look like? What does it taste like? Would it love me still, if I cheated and visited another scene? Definitely, there are more than one. Here in town, how many scenes? Where to look, who to ask? How to interpret?
I have been asked on several occasions why I only visit the Alibi. Well, the Alibi puts on good shows of my taste. And I love my taste and I love being partial to it, but there’s no room for that here. No room for bias or taste whatsoever.

So, I took a scientific approach and pulled from my boot a large strand of gnarled cat fur and lint and tossed it into the air! Then I followed it. The moon had an English accent that night and said “Put your knickers on you wanker!” So I went back in, put on my pants, and then threw another tuft of boot debris into the air and followed it over fences and through parking lots and then back to my house. Well what does Science know anyhow?

Desperate and in need for answers I turned to religion. After lighting a bundle of candles and writing strange archaic symbols on my walls with goats saliva I found that aside from the need for dental hygiene in goats, there was really no point in looking to ritual for help in this matter.

So now there is a wanderlust. A desire to siege the night and harpoon the hearts of other travelers and scenesters to find this wayward topic and discover its true meaning.

Any recommendations would be helpful. We’ll start at the Punk Prom next Saturday and travel whatever distances it will take. If you have an interesting take on this matter or a show or venue, let us know and we’ll give you many thanks and kisses and perhaps a new puppy. Though, probably not. Onward rocking soldiers to the depths of what is yet discovered. Take faith in your ’morrow, that it shall rock as well as today.

Send your recommendations, thoughts and clean socks to Daniel Lewis c/o the Eye at or drop something by the office, 791 Eighth St., Suite 6 (next to the Train Museum) in Jacoby’s Storehouse.

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