The scenario was played out in a lot of cities at the time, early 1980s. Some bar is losing business. They get a pool table. That doesn't bring people in. They serve cheap drinks. That only brings in people with nothing to spend. Everything they try to get a clientele with only brings expenses. The management are desperate for ideas to bring people in the door. Finally, one day a kid walks in with a funny haircut and an interesting idea. "I'm looking for a place to have a few bands play..." In a week, the place is full every night and the bartender is selling more beer than ever. The owners hate the customers but love the money they bring with them. The playground called the Upper Deck was such a place. The city was about to buy the building and tear it down anyway, so why not sell a shitload of beer and run some insurance scams in the mean time. Although some great artists performed there, the place was a pigsty, owned by pigs, frequented by swine, written about by Sovine Existentialists trying to get their scene reports published in 'The New York Rocker.' On an historical note, The Upper Deck has recently been acknowledged as the birthplace of the dumbing down of America. My suspicions are that the management choreographed the entire thing to make themselves look like the victims of the Freaky-Punk aggression. But wait...if you are listening to this disc for sounds of a real riot, Caveat Emptor! This live chestnut was recorded during an evening free of any insurrection or other civil disobedience, real or imagined. - Grant Hart 1999
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