Drink up Buttercup came to play the Cake Shop all geared up. Aside from the large metal garbage cans, melodica, assortment of electric guitars, bass guitars, keyboards, drums, and official mascot manikin head, they were armed with some new props. New was the baby head sound gear and hand-held sleigh bells. The all-time best prop that tells the sick story of the night is the little pink bottle of Pepto-Bismol propped on top of the side of the keyboard. This was intended for Farzad’s case of food poisoning. Maybe? Ben Money was recovering after having four wisdom teeth extracted presented another dilemma.
Whether they were sick or recovering, nobody would have guessed. They were their lively selves and, regardless of how they felt, put on a spectacle as if it was the most important show of their lives. What an awesome treat. They are eye and ear candy mixed with the roaring crash of metal and sweet swell of harmony. Moving about the stage, falling to the ground, operatic vibrato, tambourine in mouth, and theatrics abound, but the music is the essential ingredient of Drink Up Buttercup.
I rarely go to shows and play a key role. Usually, I listen, observe, and take pictures. Tonight was different.
To be upfront, Farzad’s mic stand broke in the middle of a song. His harmonies play a key role. He looked at me with hand motions and gave me my marching orders, So I held the mic through two songs, following his lips with a steady hand and making sure I didn’t hit his teeth. He moved quite generously from one side of the keyboard to another. It was finally resolved when Simon, their manager, found a small mic stand that he had placed on the keyboard. Relieved of my duties, I was able to take more shots.
Although I have seen and reviewed Drink Up many times, I have yet to see them play in a big venue. I don’t always have the luxury of going out during a workweek, so when a Saturday shows come up, I take it.
Anyway, my intentions were to show some Roman visitors a good time. They were young, in their early twenties, so I thought going to an eleven o’clock show would not be too difficult. They left just as soon as the first note to get some rest. Shit, I have yet to find people who can keep up with me. Forget my age group. So I’ll continue to go alone to be mistaken for the band's mother, not the dedicated Blogger I am.
What was assumed to be food poisoning was catching on. Some of the other members and traveling friends were feeling sick. The impending doom of a stomach virus was a predicament. As they packed their gear, the thoughts about throwing up the next day to come back the following night to the much bigger Union Hall would linger. I decided to come to the smaller Cake Shop after all, but I’m sure they put on an amazing show regardless. That is just who they are!
