We were on the scene early at ELFK's new Warehouse Arts District for Final Fridays, but a steady stream of visitors was already trickling through the various galleries. Our first stop was SeedCo Studios, where Olassa was rocking a nice cover of Jimmie Dale Gilmore's "Dallas" upstairs while BARRR enlightened us on his newest endeavors downstairs (he's poised to be a movie star). T-shirts were on sale featuring the District's new brand, for those who like to advertise their coolness. We bought four.
Out front, Burger Stand/Esquina had set up shop for the evening to sell their wares (Chip: "They did NOT think it was funny when I jokingly ordered a 'cockroach burger' "). A food truck was stationed nearby as well. Is LFK finally getting hip to food trucks?
We strolled through the Poehler Building, where each floor is full of fine art. Here's our favorite, which we spotted on the 2nd floor (which must be the "Swinger's Floor") :
In another building (we can't figure out all the names of the galleries yet), we puzzled over the "Dinner Party" piece below for quite some time. Was the rubble surrounding the piece meant to be included in our interpretations (a commentary on how the 1% continues to thrive amidst the squalor surrounding them)? Or was the backdrop merely a part of the unfinished art space, having nothing to do with the piece, which might be a statement on the loneliness of modern romance? Chip finally muttered, "I don't fucking get it," and turned his attention to a nearby wall containing a photo of a little dog on a country road, which he deemed "Moving."
And our final stop in the District was the new Invisible Hand gallery (formerly located above Esquina). The upstairs area was a comfortable sunlit space full of mingling scenesters. Do you see anyone you know?
Then it was out of the Eastside and on to the Replay Lounge, where legendary LFK power-pop band The What Gives had moved the evening's matinee reunion-show indoors, a decision we suspect was partly due to the heat and partly due to wanting a play the stage they'd played many times before (long before our personal Larryville-era). With frontman Jon Harrison towering over us and beaming munificently at the crowd, their fun was infectious and their songs were timeless. Personally, we'd sacrifice six sloppy LFK garage bands to have a few more pure pop craftsmen in town, but we recognize that sentiment is not popular in the current musical climate. Great show, gents!