The Pistils at The Venice Cafe. Photograph by Tracy Wynkoop
When they write the history of rock ’n’ roll in St. Louis, there’ll be a note about last Saturday’s concert at the Venice Cafe. There, David Udell offered up his CD release party for the album Orchids, which drew the collected new wave and punk classes of 1976–82, packed into the tight, friendly quarters of the Venice’s main bar room. Lots of bodies, lots of familiar faces. And one drummer in a big, ol’ cast.
For the show, Udell assembled the rare band, dubbed The Pistils, including both a pedal steel guitar (compliments of John Higgins) and sax (played through pedals by Dominic Schaeffer), along with a rhythm section of drummer Mike “Shorty” Long and bassist Jackie Niebylski. Together, Higgens, Niebylski and Long are three-eighths of the popular country cover act Liquid Gold, though Udell’s music is a different animal altogether.
Udell was a member of the important ‘80s act(s) Earwacks (aka Wax Theatricks), which fused new wave and progressive rock into a fascinating amalgam.
For this record, Udell says, “There are two songs I started in the ’80s. We were rehearsing at the Lester Family studio on 39th Street, and the guy that owned it traded me studio time for work. Some of it I tried to do while I was married, but it was hard. I started pouring it on while I was editing the “33 1/3” video [by Earwacks]. The idea for the project came when three old girlfriends died in a year. All the songs are about the influence a lot of really strong women have had on me.”
Finally, bringing the album to life meant Udell pulling together a band in a relative hurry and without much time for rehearsal. On a positive level, knowing all the players helped the process move a bit more quickly. What didn’t help was a motorcycle accident suffered by Long, who broke a bone, initially thinking it was a sprain.
“He woke up in great pain and went to the ER,” Udell says. “The day started with us all waiting for a report from a CT scan. I was seriously considering playing a few songs acoustically on the Venice steps where I could greet people and apologize for cancelling the show. Some people came from pretty far. We all went through an emotional wringer that day, and were physically exhausted by show time. Then some of my equipment broke down and time was running out. I actually forgot a few lyrics but was really pleased with the show.”
So, to double back to the original point of this piece: Mike Long played with a broken leg, sealed from ankle to mid-thigh by heavy tape and splinting. But he played the gig. That is massively rock ’n’ roll. (What’s somewhat more amazing is that this isn’t unprecedented, Long’s legs having been badly injured in a work accident previously, which resulted in only one lost gig for Liquid Gold. (Read that full story here.)
The gig happened. Something like it could happen again. Udell felt some magic happening at the Venice, and the people seemed to want more.
“There were things we were kicking ourselves about, but Jackie, Mike, and I are going to pursue it,” Udell says. “We'll use the others when they can or [when we] find a keyboard player.”
When they write the history of rock ’n’ roll in St. Louis, they’d best not forget Mike Long’s damn-near-heroic turn behind the kit on Saturday. Yeoman’s work. Legendary.
And when they write that history, Thomas Burnham will probably be near, with a small video camera. He captured the scene thusly.
