Has it really been ten years?
Oh sure, you’d been down Anaheim Boulevard before. Maybe you had to pick up a bitchin West Coast Choppers hoodie for your nephew’s birthday —and they didn’t sell that crap at Walmart back then, brother! You had to venture down the mean streets of Long Beach, or the LBC as I understand all the cool wiggers refer to it!
Or perhaps you had an intense hankering for a Special over at Joe Jost’s—and screw the fact that it’s a Tuesday afternoon and you’re still in the work truck with a load of Italian Ceramic floor tile that’s supposed to be at the jobsite!
Fuck it, you can already taste the pickled egg being washed down by Pabst, the heft of the schooner like a child’s skull in your paw. mmmm….a frosty, delicious skull….!
Then one day you noticed the red awning, the plain lettering on the door.
To be sure, the modest front doesn’t betray the hijinks inside. No, it’s the back of the joint that first gives you a clue of the mayhem that awaits your night.
You stamp out your smoke and cough up the cover charge and are suddenly transported into the room of dreams and nightmares, for this place has been the maker of both!
The red walls, the velvet paintings– the sickly sweet odor of last night’s booze and the perfumed necks of a dozen rockabilly skanks. You are already drunk, and you’re still standing in line for your first highball of the night!
Buckle in, pal, because your evening is gonna get a whole lot more interesting….
Alex’s has become our favorite place to play, though a lot of fans prefer not to see us play there. Why, I don’t know—
Yes, we’ve been known to have a smart cocktail or two up on that stage, but it’s really just part of the act! Listen, if you want to see some sober headed bald guys preach to you about the whales between their folk songs, the bus is leaving for Gillman St in ten minutes, hippy!
No, this is a place for drinkers that want to get drunk, bands that want to play loud, and people that want to yell You suck! when a well intentioned frontman *ahem* prefers to describe the mornings’ bowel movement instead of playing a 30 year old song!
So it was a no brainer when the time came to film the CH3 epic,One More for all My True Friends .
So many memorable nights that you can’t quite remember, but it’s the crew that makes a bar. Alex’s has become that comfort zone we all need, a place to relax amongst the people you love!
Maybe there’s no better time, really, than a lazy sunday afternoon at the bar, when there’s no goddamn band making a racket up there. A few of the local neighbors wander in, lured by free potato salad and a chance to see what the hell all these crazy kids see in this place.
You can finally get to sit at the bar, usually packed 5 deep on a Friday night.
Somebody’s tapping away at a laptop, a weepy couple are breaking up for the second time in a month. As the jukebox switches songs you can hear the gentle beeping of a tow truck backing up, another poor schmuck parked at AutoZone…..
So you order another Newcastle, and hell, why not? -a quick Jameson’s to guide the afternoon into another night. A van pulls up in the parking lot, Pennsylvania plates, and a weary touring band comes into the bar, blinking at the dark. They look around the room and you can just hear their thoughts: Fuck yeah, this is a cool place….