The Woodside Inn-Pine Junction Colorado

My favorite watering hole used to be the Woodside Inn, a roadhouse type bar in Pine Junction up in the mountains a few miles west of Denver.  It was kinda like Pond’s Lodge, but with attitude.

One Labor Day, after an exhausting session of drafting a fantasy football team and sucking down body shots out of stripper’s belly buttons, I insisted our DD stop off at the Woodside on the hour drive home from Denver to have a few more drinks. The DD didn’t protest too hard since there wasn’t a car in the parking lot and he figured we would be in and out like a bunny.

He figured wrong.

As we hit the front door I exclaimed “Holy shit there’s a band tonight!” Sure enough, there was a three piece rockabilly band playing to the bartender and they were absolutely kicking ass. Turns out it was the Hillbilly Hellcats outta Denver. I was smitten, I had a killer band all to myself and I got to party overnight with Hellcat Chuck Hughes, one of the best guitarist/front men in the business and a personal hero of mine.

I can recount many stories like this from my years spent in Denver, basically, seeing mind blowing bands and musicians who played to no one in dive bars, because killer bands in big cities are like big fake tits in porn, they’re dime a dozen.

As a musician who played the circuit in Denver, as well as Vegas, along with many shitty gigs in So Cal (played the Whiskey a go go once, worst hour of my life) I know what it’s like to rehearse for months on end only to lug gear all over BFE in an oil burning Pinto and play to half a dozen hipster dicks who would rather swap hair gel secrets than listen to real music performed by a good band.

When I moved back to Idaho Falls I figured my music days were behind me. I’m a guy who only knows three chords and likes to sing Johnny Cash and Joe Strummer tunes at 200 beats a minute, same shit I’ve been playing since 1986, and definitely outdated by hipster standards. But recently, by pure chance, I’m back playing again, playing with friends, and performing material that I (we) really love. Whoda thunk I’d meet a bassist and a drummer with the same taste in music?

The best part about being back in it is the lack of cross-armed big city assholes who think they’ve heard everything, and unless one of their douchbag cronies tells them what’s cool to listen too, everything sucks. These guys don’t know shit from shinola.

The friends we’ve had take time to come out and to listen us have been fantastic and accepting. There is nothing worse than playing and having shit thrown at you and being booed because the Buck Owens or Ramones you’re playing isn’t considered “in” anymore. Trust me, I know.

I’m SO fucking glad I’m playing in “un-hip totally out of it” Idaho Falls I could simply shit myself. This is an area that doesn’t get many underground up and coming acts, but that makes Idaho Falls cool by default. We aren’t jaded by nightly bombardments of seven bill techno-punk-trance-country-screamo-death metal-hardcore line ups at DB’s or The Gator.

Jesus, we’re ecstatic just to have a band to listen to. Any band. And when the band plays, we dance. And when the song is over, we applaud and we cheer, all the while drinking beers and shots and being happy that someone took the time to entertain us. When I see a band that’s what I do, and so do all my friends.

So believe me when I say, fuck the big city, I’d rather play for my friends in Idaho Falls anytime.