Traffic wasn’t bad at all. We hit the road shortly before noon, thinking that we’d arrive in Cincinnati around five. We actually ended up there at about four – how often does that happen? That you actually arrive ahead of schedule?

I’d never been to Bogart’s before, but I’d been sufficiently warned by Krystal and Stephanie. Dirty part of town, rough locals. Yeah. They were pretty much right. After being coddled by the shiny, perfected aura of the HOB, Bogart’s raw, unstyled environment was a bit of a shock. Totally different atmosphere than the HOB. I could tell the crowd would be crazy before even going inside.

When we arrived, Krystal wanted to video the line waiting outside. I grabbed my camera and took some pictures with her, while Stephanie held our place. If you’re in any of these, sorry. Heh. But man. Look at the garbage. Disgusting.


Camped out.

And then, down the street and around the corner, the line continued. I love how so many people are like, glaring at me in this one. Haha.

WTF are you looking at?

After filming the line, Krystal and I wandered around, chatting with some girls we knew. Mostly people from the KY Street Team – we stopped and talked to Laura and Tiffani, Katy, and Jenny, the newest ST member, who happens to go to my alma mater, UK. I insisted that Jenny and I take a picture together.


Wildcat fans UNITE!

We kept telling everyone about Lily’s poster. “Oh my God, you should see this tour poster our friend drew for the Cleveland show. It’s amazing!” And so on, and so forth. Eventually, we finally broke down and went back to the car to get one of the posters to show everyone – simply because we couldn’t quite get across to people just how incredible it was.

Once we had the poster, we stopped by our friends in line again, to show them what we’d been talking about. While we were talking to Laura, the people in front of her happened to look back, curious to see what we were talking about. Suddenly, this girl’s eyes widen.

“Oh!” she said. “What is that?”

We explained the poster, and suddenly a small crowd was around us, oohing and aahing. Some guy came forward with a camera. “Can I take a picture of that?” he asked. We acquiesced, holding it up for him. I had Jenny take a picture of us, as well.


Pimping Lily’s art.

I took my camera back to the car after that, because I’d heard that Bogart’s was a notorious hardass about cameras, so I didn’t get many pictures from Cincy. I did, however, get cursed at several times by unfriendly locals (read: scary bums) for not stopping to ‘talk’ to them or give them money.

“Hey, girl, you got a boyfriend? Or are you just too good to talk to me?”

“You ignoring me? It’s ‘cause I’m black, isn’t it?”

“Where you going, motherfuckers?”

And I can't remember exactly who we're looking at here, but one of those scary bums came close to us while we were talking about Lily's poster:

Are we about to get shot?

With such hospitality, I’m amazed that people still camp out for shows in that area. Those girls are far, far braver than I am.

Bogart’s, the armpit of Cincinnati:

Krystal’s friend Sonya, her daughter Chelsea, and Chelsea’s boyfriend met us at the show, having driven in from Louisville. They joined us in line just in time, having nearly gotten lost from shitty MapQuest directions. Side note: Never use MapQuest. Ever. It got my sister and I lost in St. Louis for two hours last year. It’s crap. Go to Yahoo or Google instead.

Back to my point. Even waiting in line, surrounded by hundreds of other fans, we weren’t safe from the street bums. At one point, a man came up to us, asking for money. We politely declined, but he stuck around, determined to give us a Manifesto. All I can remember is a mention of Jesus, Hurricane Katrina, and how it changed his life and we all needed to stick together. Later, Chelsea laughed at me, saying it looked like I was glaring at the man, but that’s not what I was doing. I was just trying to figure out what the fuck he was talking about.

Eventually, Bogart’s began letting people in, and as we filed inside, the guy scanning the tickets gave the male members in line an amused look.

“You’re either devoted boyfriends,” he said sarcastically, “Or really smart single guys.” Though I disliked the tone he used when he said this, I have to agree. Didn’t Isaac even say that, at one point? That more guys should come to shows because it’s full of girls? Yeah. It’s true. You can complain and be offended all you like, but it’s true.

And on a side note, I have to say that security didn’t even check me for a camera. I had my coat on, and they didn’t so much as look at me when I came in. No wand, nothing. Didn’t even ask me to open my pockets. I’d taken my camera back to the car for nothing. Ah, well.

Having been to Bogart’s before, Krystal and Stephanie knew exactly where they wanted to stand – the platform railing right behind the soundbooth. We weren’t even going to try to brave the floor. And once we got inside, I understood why.

Bogart’s essentially looks like an old warehouse, with a bar on a platform in the back, and a stage on the other end. Granted, there was a balcony directly above the platform, with tables and stools, but essentially, the building is a giant box. No fancy architecture or design. Some pretty big names have played at Bogart’s – the Ramones and Joan Jett are a few that immediately come to mind. And I can totally see the Ramones playing there. I mean, seeing a band like that probably would be cool in a building that looks like an old, run-down warehouse. But Hanson? It seemed incongruous. Too dirty and rough for their brand of pop/rock.

We managed to get a spot on the railing – though it was in the back half of the venue, it was the most perfect, unadulterated, straight-on view of the stage. Since we were up about six feet higher than the floor, we didn’t have to worry about 6’4” 250-pound Air Guitar Giants standing in front of us (or, Walker Hanson. Hahahaha). I was on the end of our group. Krystal was on my left, and a cute, pigtailed blonde girl was on my right. Once we’d marked our territory, we settled in and waited for the show.

Highlights, notes, and random bits:

• Glass Halo. Um, no. Didn’t really enjoy them. It’s not that they’re a bad band or anything, but like Pat McGee, I just didn’t dig their sound too much. It was a little darker, more somber. The highlight of their set was a cover of Van Morrison’s Brown-Eyed Girl, which lightened the mood a bit.





• A girl had to be carried out from the Swoon Pit (as Krystal calls it) before the show even started. That’s the kinda crowd we’re talking here, folks.





• The audience was the strangest conglomeration of Hanson fans I’d seen yet. I’ve already mentioned that Bogart’s has a totally different feel than your standard Hanson venue, and it definitely showed in the crowd, as well. There were fans from total polar ends of the spectrum – prissy, made-up girls in dresses, girls in jeans and tees, Emo girls, girls in handmade shirts, Goth girls, punk girls, and of course, their male counterparts. It was like a circus.
  
  And although the general premise might sound hilarious, drunk Hanson fans aren’t nearly as amusing in real life as they sound on paper. There was a small cluster of trashed girls on the floor who found it necessary to shriek, screech, and scream throughout all the sets. Pat McGee even commented on them at one point, saying, “I think there’s a velociraptor over there.” Which, of course, only encouraged them to be even louder and more obnoxious.





• From what I could tell, Pat McGee’s set was essentially the same. And again, the best part was the American Girl/I Want You to Want Me cover. He mentioned at one point during the show that PMB would be coming back to Bogart’s in February. Yesterday, Jenny asked me if I’d want to go if she and some others headed up there to see him. Strangely enough, I said yes. haha. Maybe he’ll impress me then.





• Let me just say, right up front: when he’s got the right brand, Taylor Hanson wears his jeans like a work of art. Seriously. I have never in my life seen a simple pair of jeans look so fucking hot on a man. They were low-slung, clinging snugly to his hips, and notched with a belt. Perfect fit. And matched with a form-fitting long-sleeve shirt… damn. As soon as they hit the stage, I said, aloud, “Look at him!” to the girl next to me:
  
  

  
  Exhibit A: Taylor Hanson's slinky, sexy jeans (photo courtesy of Kate, aka delightfulsin)
  

  Then, as an afterthought, “Damn, he’s really skinny.”
  
  The girl nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “And look at Zac. I think he’s lost weight, too.”




The setlist for Cincinnati was pretty similar to Cleveland, but it was definitely a high-energy, rowdy show. And I fully believe the Bogart’s aura had plenty to do with that – as Krystal said, Hanson probably keep coming back to that dump because they always have a killer crowd and a killer show. I guarantee playing there makes them feel badass and cool.

They didn’t play In a Way, which was a slight disappointment since I could actually see the drumkit this time. They instead opened with Desire, which as I’ve said, has become one of my favorite Hanson covers of all time. They did Underneath, which is a nice song, but not my absolute favorite.

The acoustic set included When You’re Gone and MMM Bop , which didn’t thrill me, because I’m not a huge fan of either of those songs. Although it was kind of cool to see all three of them lined up onstage with guitars. And the flashes that were going off during that part – let me just say it’s a good thing none of the boys are epileptic, because otherwise the frantic strobe-like pulsing of camera flashes would have sent them seizing. It was strangely surreal to see their giant shadows on the back wall while this was going on.

A Change in My Life was stunning as usual, as was my other favorite new cover, Long Train Running.

And, as a nice surprise -- Man from Milwaukee! Since we were behind/above the sound booth, at one point I’d leaned over and caught a glimpse of the set list and saw that MfM was on there. It was ridiculously exciting. I mean, it’s such a silly song… but at the same time, effervescent and irresistibly catchy. During Zac’s infamous megaphone bit, he picked up the loudspeaker and started to shout his little speech, only to accidentally knock the microphone out of the way. A tech guy suddenly leaped up, grabbed another mic, and held it up for Zac to yell into. Highly amusing.


It was at the Cincy show that Adolf made his first noticeable appearance. During the first song, which was Desire, ironically enough. Sadly, though, Adolf couldn’t go the distance, it seems, and he disappeared after the first few songs. What a shame.

-Once I’d noticed the setlist, I had designs on getting ahold of it to keep after the show. I watched the sound and lighting guys like a hawk, waiting for the appropriate moment. As soon as the main show was over, before the encore, I leaned over… only to watch the light guy hand the list to the pigtailed girl next to me.

“Oh!” I said, disappointed. “Damn! I was going to get it!” I laughed.

She smiled at me. “I asked before the show,” she said, which immediately planted the idea in my head for Chicago.



• A bit of randomness here: if you ever find yourself in Bogart’s with the serious need to use the bathroom… pray. And do NOT, under any circumstances, use the restrooms downstairs. It’s like a set out of a horror movie, all dank and dark and dirty. It looks like the bathroom in Saw. Go upstairs, to the balcony – those are at least a little bit cleaner, although there was a lovely two-inch gap between the door and the wall so everyone waiting in line could spy on me if they so desired. Ah, Bogart’s.