Days of Wine and Roses

I once knew a girl who, back in the 70s before punk bands went on nationwide tours, called up CBGBs and successfully convinced the bartender to leave the phone off the hook during Television’s set there. Can you imagine how epic that seemed at the time? Television at CBGBs in the Bowery on the lower east side: the combination calls to mind all kinds of late-night sensory perceptions: sweat, stench, graffiti; grime, crime, and sonic glory.

Going to CBs is a touchstone part of my youth, and I couldn’t help but think about my own experiences there as I approached the Gundlach-Bundschu winery in Sonoma the other night to see Television perform at possibly THE most beautiful site I’ve ever, ever seen music at. The contrast to CBs was almost too big to contemplate. The one venue – now defunct – could be best depicted on a smudgy torn out b & w newsprint classified. The other is a full color ad in Conde Nast traveler.

Seriously. The Gundlach Bundschu winery – locally known as the Gun-Bun – is in one of those spots in Sonoma that look just like Greece. It bills itself as California’s oldest family owned vineyard, which is a cool thing in and of itself, and the venue is in barn, next to a pretty vineyard, with only a simple food truck and bottles of excellent wine available for sustenance. You know what else is so classy about them? They serve you your wine in monogrammed glasses, and they ask you to keep the glass when you’re done “to save them washing it.”

Gun Bun has held excellent rock shows for several years: my friend Paula, who lives locally, saw J. Mascis there (for which I offer her my sincere condolences), and all kinds of other acts have played there as well; next month the venue will host Courtney Barnett, Hope Sandoval and Spiritualized among others, and I can assure you that if you go to one of these events, you will be glad you did. Indeed, when you walk up to Gun Bun through an autumn sunset, you may feel that, instead of being at a punk rock show, you are at the best possible wedding you’ve ever been to – minus that boring ceremony stuff, and other people's relatives.

That said, the experience of going there to see these types of acts really begs a particular research question, something about the tenuous link between punk rock music and grotty surroundings. But then, why are Television even considered punk rock anyway? Presumably only because once upon a time they hung out with punks. Also, perhaps, because what they do with their guitars isn’t linked to the 12 bar blues – nor to folk, Americana, jazz, or anything really: it’s a purely musical thing, like, music with two absolute value bars surrounding it. Today you can hear all the things that have sprung from it – but you’d never link it to loud fast rules or even DIY: you couldn’t “D” it that way if you tried.

At this late date, however, it may be specious to wonder what is and isn’t true punk though – and it should be noted that the Television of last week was not the Television of CBGBs, as there were no Richards in it, Hell or Lloyd. It was very much a greatest hits unit, possibly – oh shock! – even formed for the purposes of making $$$. Even more sacrilegiously, Paula suggested that, rather than a seminal punk act, to her they were more like the Grateful Dead. I know, how awful, but her comment was justified: it won’t take you long at a Television show to realize that they are mostly just jamming.

At Gun-Bun, the band played, like, 8 songs, each one over ten minutes long. When the song is “Marquee Moon,” that’s too short. But let’s be real: not all songs are “Marquee Moon.” I am happy to hear “Venus” and “Glory” and “Foxhole” as well, but that one song is always and forever the real kicker. Watching as those glorious chords rose up the neck of Tom’s guitar, one can only think how odd it must be for a person to have written a song that good, a piece of music that absolutely speaks across forty years, wafting above every other track from the era, sucking the breath out of every room as it progresses, so you, and everyone else in the room, find yourself holding your breath ‘til it…oh, let’s just be blunt, ‘til the song comes right in your ears.

The ten minutes of “Marquee Moon” made the two and half hour drive to Gun Bun through insane traffic to see Television play in front of about one hundred people was well worth it, but honestly, it was worth it anyway, because chasing down good music, hanging with old friends and going to wineries in Sonoma is a good thing in and of itself. It’s a far cry from CBS, for sure. But then, as one Facebook friend commented, the more things change, the more things change. And so it goes.