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Twilight Café and Bar Not Trying Too Hard by Courtney Mumma Punk rock takes me back. Not what it’s morphed into, including a vast array of genres from hard core to pop, but in its purest form. I won’t insert band names here, because nothing divides purists quicker then attempts at definition. Anyway, you know what I mean: three piece, maybe four, lots of sweat and testosterone, front man stroking the guitar at a rate and ferocity usually reserved for private moments in a bathroom. At my non-specific age past twenty-five, I am limited to basking in the nostalgia of this art form. In fond recognition I recall nights spent in diners with my friends until 4 am, discussing just how “fucking rad” the band that night was, drinking coffee and eating greasy food to take the edge off the beer we drank in the parking lot of the night club or warehouse only hours before. Ah, the memories. So stepping into the blue glow of The Twilight Café and Bar was like a return to innocence. I was in a chrome flashback, hypnotized by the stylish low-hanging lights. Is this the same feeling my parents get when they go to Dick Clark’s American Grill to eat fries, drink shakes, and dance uninhibited in the fluorescence to the deejay spinning Buddy Holly and the Crickets? But The Twilight is better than my old haunts. No need to go to the diner after the show, the show
Passing by the cushy-looking booths, we sat at the long, horseshoe shaped bar. My freshly showered friend turned to me and stated concern that her hair might be too clean for this crowd. She was exaggerating, but she illustrated the point that, like any credible punk venue, this environment sent signals that it might shun anyone who took image too seriously. I was satisfied with myself that I hadn’t put on too much make-up and chose not to change into a more-revealing top in place of my casual baggy tee shirt. But no matter how many black-shirted boys and girls surrounded me, and how disheveled their hair, The Twilight is still occupied by Portland people who are, for the most part, really nice. Friendly patrons and employees who engaged me in pleasant conversations never wrought with hipster disinterest
After a hard day at the office, or even if I’m just bored, it’s good to have a reminder to take myself less seriously. Bottom line is, The Twilight Café and Bar creates an atmosphere that makes me feel under twenty-five and giddy and provides raw entertainment all for the punk rock cost of zero dollars. For more information about the Twilight’s shows, including MP3s, go to www.twilightcafebar.com. Twilight Café and Bar, 1420 SE Powell Blvd. |
is already in the diner. Better yet, it’s always free. Maybe I should say that a little louder, ALWAYS FREE. Because wouldn’t we all rather spend our money on beer? And even if there were a charge, you’d get your money’s worth. With several bands a night, not always punk bands by the way, you’re certain to like at least one of them regardless of your musical preference. The Twilight showcases bands who shine as live acts, not so much who you’d listen to in headphones in your easy-chair. In fact, before the show even starts, the speakers belt out live shows recorded at The Twilight, setting the stage for bands like Bast, The Flip-ops, The Triggers, The Hunches, The High and The Mighty, The Del Toros, SK and the Punk Ass Bitches, Big Foot Lives, Lopez, The Neins, and The Buttfrenchers. And if any of our readers are in bands hoping to play at the Twilight, music supervisor Dave Gaysunas (this is the guy you send your demos to) assures me that bands are well compensated even without a cover charge.
welcomed me. Try as they might to look tough, no one I approached had a surly attitude. Come to think of it, I’ve always suspected that the rough exteriors of those in the punk scene are protecting an inner fragility. Belonging just means not trying too hard, and then everyone’s just sweet and inviting without the candy coating. For instance, booker Dave wanted to make sure every band whom he didn’t mention in his top eleven (see above) knew how much he likes them because he hates leaving people out. Aww.