Harvelle’s on Redondo Beach Pier is a hole in the wall. It’s reminiscent of a swanky, underground (literally) speak-easy dive of the 1940’s with the vintage feel of red, hand-tooled leather booths ( I don't care how much you made fun, I'm leaving this in, Bean) and an intimate vibe. Enough about my club review…..
We arrived close to show time. Saturday night, 9:00pm. I had just conquered 4 hours sleep and my eyes as well as my feet, adjusted slowly to the neverending staircase and dim, humid air. The edge of the crowd started almost at the bottom of the stairs. A DJ in the corner was playing 80’s music and there were people from all walks of life. We ordered beers when the music ended and made our way to the dance floor to get as close as humanly possible to the tiny stage.
A voice introduced the Escovedo Band members one by one. Sheila came out from the left side, smiling, waving and looking vibrant. I snapped pictures wildly, finally figuring out how to work the digital camera in the dark room 20 minutes later. The performances were absolutely amazing. The audience swayed and danced with each other… the music was an eclectic mix of Cuban, Caribbean, and Mexican inspired with all new material. I just stared at the talent on the stage. Sheila seemed to get so caught up in her drumming that several times the band stopped playing and watched her with her eyes closed, rhythmically pounding away and improvising on the spot. I was in heaven. Toward the end of the first set, out of NOWHERE, everything stopped. She whispered into the mic:
"She wears a long fur coat of mink
Even in the summer time…"
I screamed. I screamed a sharp, piercing, shrill yelp as if I had been stabbed. I have no idea where it came from. Mind you, I was less than ten feet from the stage, directly in the center, standing about 6’2" in cute peep toe heels and peering clear over everyone’s heads. She stopped singing and looked at me. Whoa, I rattled Sheila E.! She smiled and closed her eyes again
"…everybody knows from the coy little wink. The girl's got a lot on her mind."
The crowd joined in with a not so perfect harmony.
"She's got big thoughts, big dreams
And a big brown Mercedes sedan
What I think this girl
She really wants
Is to be in love with a man"
The stage went dark and the first intermission was announced. An older lady in front of me was disgruntled. "I'm going to get my money back," she said aloud to no one in particular,"This wasn't what I thought it would be." Good. Step aside lady. More room for me.
My nerves were on edge. I got so emotional with the music to the point I was almost physically spent. I've seen stars before so I know I wasn't starstruck. I've hobnobbed among the best of them, knowing the only thing to keep me grounded is thinking the whole time: "They're just people." I still don't know what the hell got into me this night.
Stil in a daze, I ordered a beer at the bar. The bartender casually slid it to me. As I stood there, I grabbed it and took a swig. The brown glass bottle promptly slide right out of my hand and onto the floor.
It didn't break, my friend, oh no. The bottle deflected off of my painted, cute pink little peeptoed toe (as mentioned earlier), and started rolling away from me all while spewing frothy beer in a spinning circle. I walked after it in an attempt to pick it up, but it was dark.... mistakenly kicking it instead. The almost empty bottle came to a halt against a wooden beam. I bent over, picked it up and took it back to the bar.
The room was still loud with chatter and 80's music. I motioned toward the bartender then pointed at the floor:
"I dropped my beer."
"What?"
"I dropped my beer"
"Well why did you do that?"
The bartender stared irritatedly at me.
"I was just letting you know so someone could clean it up."
I thought he was going to hand me a mop (trust me, it's happened before).
Meanwhile, innocent bystander began dropping handfulls of black cocktail napkins all over the area. He created such a fuss and fanned his arms out trying to shield anyone walking by from stepping in a perilous puddle of brew. You would have thought there was a dead body on the floor. "She dropped a beer," he warned. "Be careful.... it spilled, watch your step. There's a beer on the floor."
The bartender returned and handed me a replacement drink. He grabbed both of my hands and placed it around the base and neck of the bottle. "HOLD ON TO IT" he yelled at me. I shrugged. I wasn't even drunk. Just giddy. High on the music.
The lights started flickering just in time. I scooted past the crap on floor and edged my way back into the crowd in front of the stage. I got even closer as the second set started. The songs were almost the same until near the end. Sheila asked the crowd, "I hope you don't mind if we just play like we're in our living room. This is how we get when we get together."
She improvised by blowing melodically into a half empty Heineken bottle. Her dad pounded the timbales and they created weird tribal music together. Nobody cared. It was beautiful. Five minute drum solo later, Sheila tossed her sticks into the crowd and the girl directly in front of me caught them. Well, she sort of caught them with her face which startled Sheila. She apologized profusely and held out her hand to pull the non-ducking concert goer on stage and give the girl a hug. "I'm so sorry, are you OK?" The girl nodded and held her mouth either in embarrasment... or to keep the blood from pouring out. Sheila reached down and grabbed a handful of drumsticks and gave them to her, then said to the audience, "Did anyone else get hit?" The entire front two rows of people screamed.
The Escovedos started singing again. Things began winding down. Again, Sheila closed her eyes and sang:
"She wears a long fur coat of mink..."
Glamorous Life? Again? Whoo Hoo! I screamed a second time and held my camera to my chest.
Then Sheila said, "I hope you don't mind. I'd like to bring out my special friend on stage to help me sing this..."
From a darkened stage left, a figure appeared.... I don't mean to sound dramatic, but this is really one of those instances where the appropriate amount of building up and drama is necessesary. Let me remind you where I am. I am in Redondo Beach, California. Unless you are from the area, you probably haven't heard of Redondo Beach. It's a small beach community/tourist trap wedged in between Hermosa Beach and Torrance. The not-so-world-famous Pier is home to Tony's on the Pier (which almost succumbed to a tragic fire), the Fox network's show "OC" was filmed a great deal here, and a while ago I took a picture on the rocks under the "Starboard Latitude" when I was seven years old and made my first communion. My parents and I came here for lunch and I had ordered a Shirley Temple from Tony's bar for the first time. It was a big day for me.
Back to Sheila: here she was with her entire talented family on a dark stage barely 20 feet long which already looked as if it couldn't maintain the capacity it already had on it.
"I hope you don't mind. I'd like to bring out my special friend on stage to help me sing this..."
Out her friend walked. The crowd sucked in a collective gasp before we all screamed in unison.
It was fuckin Prince.
In Redondo Beach.
He was dressed all in black and had on trademark giant black, ladybug-eyed shades. Grinning, he began playing the keyboard. I remember screaming at the top of my lungs "OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!" and frantically alternating between snapping my digital camera and camera phone like everyone else did. It became deafening in the room. Everyone was yelling and screaming. The crowd surged forward in a huge wave. I literally was within reach of touching the stage. I screamed the entire time. Never heard a note of the music he played. This went on for about three minutes then he disappeared as quickly as he came out on the stage and everything went dark. I was breathing heavily and my heart was pounding. I walked back to the bar and sat down. Everyone freaked out.
What a kick ass night.
