Dec. 7, 2008

Last night, my ‘60s band The Vanilla Extract played one of the most enjoyable shows in our long and semi-illustrious career.

It was a 60th birthday for guitarist Michael Wood’s friend and neighbor, Helen, who lives a few doors away from him on San Francisco’s Downey Street in the Haight-Ashbury…an intimate, two-blocks-long street who hosts an annual Block Party and Barbecue which has invited us to perform for the last four years. In September, after another afternoon of classic rock at the Block Party, Helen approached us about performing at an upcoming birthday party, to which we readily agreed. Thus it was that we pulled up to the Bay View Boat Club in the shadow of San Francisco’s AT&T Park for a night of holiday and birthday cheer.

We had recently purchased a new set of floor monitor speakers, and when we arrived at the club to set up, it was apparent that they would take up about 20% of the available floor space in the corner where the band was to set up. However, we managed to fit everything into place, and after moving a good part of our equipment aside to allow drummer Doug Kassel access to his place behind the kit, we were ready to go.


The Bay View Boat Club is a small, picturesque waterfront joint with a horseshoe-shaped bar backed by a patio and barbecue on the water, and a pool table in an adjoining room. The ceiling is decorated with hundreds of boating flags and the walls display a combination of memorabilia and club information. It’s ambiance is sort of old-time San Francisco without being stuffy…a very comfortable room in which to play. They did, however, request that we sign in and display a sticker affirming our status as a guest sponsored by a member, who in this case was a very nice guy named Ansel, who had attended the San Francisco Art Institute about the same time as Ellen.

After a sound check and a short interlude, we kicked off with our traditional “Magic Carpet Ride.” As our first set progressed, a steady stream of partygoers began to fill the place, and our music grew louder and more energetic, as the crowd’s energy encouraged us to rock out. Helen was joined by several friends who became fixtures on the dance floor, immediately in front of us.

We finished the set with a rousing version of “White Room” and grabbed some food that had been spread out on the patio, and squeezed into position to start the second set. Now fully warmed up, we settled into our grooves and let the music flow through us as the hanging light fixtures seemed to sway back and forth to the music as the floor became more crowded. Near the end of the set, a woman dressed as one of Santa’s elves appeared and singlehandedly doubled the energy in the room.

The second set found us hitting our stride and the crowd filled the dance area between us and the bar. Things were going well despite the cramped quarters, and we were having a great time. We took a bit longer of a break before the last set, as we wanted to play up to midnight. We blasted through our twelve planned songs and the crowd enthusiastically demanded more, and as we had a half-dozen or so alternate songs, launched our encore with “For Your Love” and a reprise of our soundcheck, “Nowhere Man.”

The crowd roared its approval, clearly wanting more, so we ran through several songs we hadn’t played in months: “Tired of Waiting,” “Things We Said Today” and an epic “Shapes of Things.” Thinking we had exhausted our repertoire, we said good night and started to take off our guitars, but again the crowd encouraged us to continue. I had the feeling that we could pull off “Honky Tonk Women” although we had never played it live, or possibly even in practice in this decade, but Rob Sherman was up to the task and led us through a solid rendition as the crowd continued dancing and screaming.

His voice having run out of gas, Rob let it be known that he was done singing, but the crowd still wanted more. I dusted off a couple of Dylan tunes which I sing, “Mr. Tambourine Man” and “Like a Rolling Stone,” thinking that the latter would take a lot of time, which it did, the audience gleefully singing along with the chorus. With nothing left to play, we gratefully thanked the still-screaming audience, who at last allowed us to end the set and take off our instruments. With the last notes still swirling about, we got ourselves a few well-deserved beverages and basked in the glow of one of our more memorable shows ever.