Sunday 10/09/06 The Presets, Kid Sister @ Double Door, Chicago

Just another Sunday night in Chicago.  Or is it? Familiar face at the entrance.  He’s haggling with the doorman.  Trying to get his Puma gift bag into a safe place.  “Sorry, man,” says the doorman, “but if I let you out now, you can’t come back in, not without paying.”

Familiar face reveals himself to be preeminent Chicago scenester Carlos, last seen berating those neglectful kids at the Pitchfork fest for failing to catch Marina out of Bonde do Role when her crowdsurf took a wrong turn.  "Wait,” says Carlos, “you were the guy who was talking to that Australian girl, right? I KNEW IT."

The upstairs bartender mutters something about rancid but we don’t know if he’s talking about the band or the taste of the tart brandy he just let us sample.  Big red bottle.  Extasy, they call it.

Downstairs now, the main floor. Carlos is a lightning rod; he knows everybody.  “That guy in the glasses, he’s my brother.  You see that girl in the white boots.  She’s dating Lady Sovereign.” Along comes a singer he knows from Toronto, she's recording an album here in Chicago. Says she needs players. "I play a little bass," says Gigwise.  Toronto nods, shrugs.

With Nelly Furtado’s 'Maneater' as backing track, cover girl Kid Sister is doing her thing in a sharp homemade yellow frock.  Her brother, J2K of local DJ duo Flosstradamus, is up there with her.  “You a maneater, sis?” he asks her.  Kid Sister grins.

The Presets take over.  The crowd is small but they’re into it.  Then, out of nowhere comes this weathered punker in a skullcap.  He’s got a cold, hard glare.  He's wearing a raincoat. The raincoat reads RANCID.

It can’t be. Half a dozen doubletakes later and, sure enough, that’s him.  Tim from Rancid. Carlos waves him over.  Let’s get this guy a shot. “Maybe later,” says Tim. Carlos asks Tim about his raincoat.  The raincoat that reads Rancid. “It’s no big deal,” says Tim.  “The Clash did it.  The Ramones did it.”

Tim’s got a look in his eye like he’s gonna knock Carlos out in half a second.  This probably wouldn’t be a good time to bring up the ex-wife, Carlos.  Queens of the Stone Age – topic verboten.  Brody Dalle?  Perish the thought.  Tim waves over his road manager.  We’re dead.
“You wanna see the show tomorrow?” Tim asks Carlos.  “It’s sold out, but I can get you in.”

Carlos writes his name, first and last, down on a sheet of paper.  Plus one.  That’s Gigwise, then.  Toronto, you’re invited, too.  Tim hauls out his Sidekick, starts programming Toronto’s number.  He sends her a text message.  It reads, “hi.”  Punctuation is one of those colon/right parenthesis smiley faces.  Yeah, this thing – :)

That pounding piano sample from ‘Are You the One’ pummels a groove deep in everyone’s head.  “Tim,” we tell him, “I saw you guys play in Virginia years ago, like ’99.  Had the best stage lighting ever.  Just this one bright floodlight.  Big shadows.  Harsh.  And I remember this one guy…he lost his wedding ring in the moshpit.”

“Cool,” says Tim.  His grits his teeth.

Gigwise takes a few steps back into the dunce’s corner.  Sure, go and mention weddings, dimwit. 
That oooh-ahhh sound-of-the-man-working-on-the-chain-gang refrain from ‘Steamworks’ sees Tim wave goodbye to everyone, but not before giving Carlos the black and white wristband off his own wrist.  “Here,” says Tim, “I’ve got a lot more merch where this came from.”  And the wristband reads, “Rancid.”

“Stick with me,” says Carlos.  The Presets close out their set with ‘Down Down Down.’ Excellent.