Music and the Sugar Mill

Over the last few days, I’ve seen friends collectively mourning the death of Children of Bodom frontman, Alexi Laiho. This musician’s untimely death provided a reminder to me for the music I’d seen over the years and although I’ve never really listened to Children of Bodom, I feel for my friends whom Alexi’s music brought joy. Some of my favorite shows have been seeing Buckethead, Dweezil Zappa, but also Sweetland Opera. I miss the freedom to travel from show to show and the options of seeing different bands every night at The Maui Sugar Mill Saloon. 

The Sugar Mill boasted a retro 80s style appearance with a needlework sign asking patrons to refrain from “Doing Coke in the Bathroom”. Dave Grohl’s portrait was plastered visibly on the wall. There was an older waitress serving drinks and strongly enforced the “two drink minimum” rule like the Comedy Cellar in New York City. The smell of cigarette smoke drifted in and there was little you could do to stop it. The bathrooms were dirty and small and some man from Florida talked my ear off about his plan to flip houses in Los Angeles. He bought my date and I rounds of shots and we returned the favor with Blue Moons, but really, I just wanted him to leave. I’ve met few people from Florida whom I’ve actually liked. Referencing Florida, Jerry says to the talking cat in Rick and Morty, “Why ask questions, just have fun?” 

I ask questions, but sometimes observing and listening are just as rewarding as conversation. I wish I found enjoyment in bodybuilding and talking to another macho dude about bizarre sex positions, but that’s about as unfulfilling as listening to Dave Matthews Band on repeat. It seems like I open social media and an acquaintance or celebrity or friend has died this year. It’s miserable and heartbreaking and makes me question why I still pay homage to Zuckerberg and his data thieves. Facebook makes me unhappy, but it’s convenient and I have other goals for now.

Seeing Alexi’s death reminded me of the freedom I had to venture from concert to concert all over different venues. I’d mostly attend smaller shows with local bands, but there were some more prominent musicians I ended up seeing. I had the pleasure of attending Buckethead at the Novo Theatre in downtown Los Angeles. I made absolutely sure that I’d see Buckethead perform as he had revealed that his heart condition and wouldn’t be around forever. The elusive giant came out on stage wearing a “23” Michael Jordan jersey in an almost gliding motion and performed all of his signature moves, switching from guitar to nunchucks. He blasted Star Wars sounds recorded on his guitar and shredded high-pitched elating melodies. The show was mesmerizing and elicited feelings of happiness. I thought about talking to nearby listeners, but maintained my silence throughout the show in awe of this beautiful character.

Just before the pandemic, the iconic experimental California band, Mr. Bungle came to play at the Fonda. They were even playing with the Melvins! I’d seen Dweezil Zappa play at the Fonda the year before. But, Ticket Scalpers had inflated the price from $45 to $150, and I was hurting for cash in the unforgiving city of Los Angeles. I missed my opportunity. I doubt I’ll have the chance to see two legendary aging bands again.  If Buckethead were to provide me with his wisdom, I’m sure he’d quote his favorite basketball player and say, “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take!”