I've been in bands for years, and I've played a lot of shitholes. From shitholes in NYC, to shitholes in the Midwest, to shitholes in the Deep South, I've seen them all. But, the term "shithole" isn't necessarily a negative thing. You know the place- every town has one with a bored, slightly surly bartender standing in front of a wall of bottles (of the cheapest liquor imaginable), making small talk with the one defeated old man sitting in the corner.  He's always there- regardless of the time or day. The jukebox has all of your favorites- from Bon Jovi to Jimmy Buffett- and hasn't seen a new CD since that first Sade album that drove the kids wild. At night, the younger crowd comes in, and by younger, I mean the non-AARP cardholders, and invariably a fight breaks out between a large man with a mullet and a tiny angry guy with a Yankees hat and a Zeppelin shirt on. It's a fair fight...after all, Yankees Hat did knock over Mullet's half-full can of Coors Light. The band's about to play when someone screams for "Free Bird" . . . and they mean it. Shithole.

Or maybe it's the hot new bar in Brooklyn, filled with kids from Indiana living out their fantasies of being young and fabulous. The bartender is also in some promising local band whose album is only available somewhere in Europe, and the DJ is playing songs recorded entirely on childrens' toys. The line to the bathroom is longer than the one to get in, and once you do get in, the sinks and floors are covered with a fine white powder that was bought with trust fund dollars. The girls are dressed in their best Olivia Newton-John "Let's Get Physical" outfits, and the boys have headbands, polyester suits, and bad teenage mustaches. The band is about to play when the DJ spins a version of "Free Bird" done entirely on a Speak and Spell. Shithole.

It could also be the big corporate rock venue, owned by some multinational corporation that cares nothing about independent music. Your band's name is misspelled in tiny letters right below a giant flyer announcing the Guns 'N Roses reunion tour. Beers are fifteen dollars and the liquor is all watered down and served with a sneer by frizzy haired angry ex-strippers, and guys named "Rocco" who are working there to pay off the new rims on their 1991 Honda Civic. There is a barrier separating the crowd from the stage and big meatheads stand ready to dismember anyone who dares to so much as to reach an arm towards the stage. Your band is the first one out of five and the three people there that early are just trying to get a good spot to watch the headliner. The band got no sound-check, being the opener, but they got to watch the MTV band play Freebird at theirs for an hour. Shithole.

I could go on forever, but I won't. These places all serve their purpose, and we've all found ourselves at one of them at some point. Maybe we've even had a great time at one of them. I'm not here to judge, and we will cover them all here at Lush Life, but let me tell you about one place that wasn't a shithole: Magnetic Field.

Open for about five years, Magnetic Field was one of the only clubs that was truly band-friendly. Lee Greenfeld had it right. He only booked two bands a night....bands that truly complemented each other. If you were out to see a band you liked and had never heard of the other one playing, chances are, you would walk away a fan. Even if you hated the music, the bands would be done by 11, giving you a chance to talk to the girl making eyes at you all night without yelling into her ear and nodding dumbly when you couldn't hear her response.

Oh, and the bourbon. Magnetic Field was a haven for drinkers, a homey, comfortable place that never seemed too crowded, even when it was packed that had great liquor. It was exactly the place to spend a night out, catch some great bands, and drink a glass of fancy whiskey.

Earlier this month, Lee Greenfeld and William Crane officially announced the closing of the club. I'm fortunate to have been able to spend a bunch of nights there, drinking too much, hanging out with friends, and probably horrifying the women that came through the door. The sound guys always made us sound better than we deserved, the bartenders were always super nice, and we were always paid more than we expected. They will be having a week of blowout send-off shows from March 24-31. Expect some big names to show up and say their goodbyes. Below you'll see a clip of my band, The Mess Around, playing there recently, where we got to open up for the A-Bones, the legendary NYC rocknroll band, and one of my absolute favorites.

Magnetic Field, you will be missed....