doomandgloomfromthetomb.tumblr.com
_**Michael Hurley - Quiet Life, Brooklyn, New York, March 24, 1990**_
I’d never heard of Quiet Life, the short-lived late 80s/early 90s Williamsburg music venue, but it sounds like a hoot.
_**The Village Voice’s Richard Gehr wrote: **_On most (and only) Saturday nights since last October, dozens — heck, scores — of locals have meandered into Quiet Life after discreetly making their presence known by tapping the door of this appropriately renamed former funeral chapel. In the dark, from the street, it lacks even the suggestion of activity. Pale light gleams through the stained-glass windows; apartment-house mailboxes greet the customer. Pay the man five dollars and mosey into a minimal sitting-and-drinking room. Where the bereaved once grieved, folks now gather in subdued conviviality. It’s a permanent wake, Jake. Pals and strangers, just hanging out and talking about _stuff_. Work stuff. Music stuff. You know — stuff. No fights, some light necking.
In other words, just the kind of place that Michael Hurley would’ve loved. He played Quiet Life in the spring of 1990, and thanks to the expanding Jeff Lazar archives, we can listen to a crystal clear tape of what went down. An afternoon show, maybe? There’s a baby who starts crying at the beginning of the second set — again, something that Hurley probably would have loved.
Snock is playing solo, but I’m struck by his amazing guitar work; certainly not flashy, but so intricately composed and effective, a jazz orchestra (a Snockestra?) on six strings. But Hurley doesn’t just play guitar here! He hops over to an electric keyboard for several songs, giving us a rare glimpse of his talents on that instrument. By the time he’s rollicking and rambling through a long “Broadcasting the Blues,” even the former funeral home’s ghosts must’ve been bopping along.
