Goodbye to The Fastlane

Photo taken from www.asburypark.net

The House That Rocks the Jersey Shore

This may come as a surprise, but I've never been a guy that saves concert ticket stubs or has a spiral notebook full of all of the shows I've ever attended. Even now, I don't take any notes other than mental ones when I'm at a show. The way I figure it is that I'm not trying to be a journalist. I'm trying to write about how a show made me feel, what really touched me. That's the stuff that I remember the next morning, and that's what I put into my reviews.

Today, I saw a picture showing that the external demolition of the structure that used to house Asbury Park's Fastlane has begun. The club has been shuttered for a while, but I spent the drive home from jury duty today trying to remember some of the shows I attended there. Like I said, I have no notes or ticket stubs. I don't have a particularly good sense of the chronology, but this is what I could remember.

My friend Lloyd and I went to see John Wesley Harding there in 1991 during his tour for The Name Above the Title. I know it was 1991 because in Gary Wien's Beyond the Palace, former WHTG DJ Mike Sauter recounts a story about Harding's late arrival to the stage. Little Steven was playing down the street at the then moribund Stone Pony. According to Sauter, Harding stayed at that show as long as he could, hoping -- as people do to this day -- for a Bruce Springsteen guest appearance.

I don't recall getting too bent out of shape over Wes's lateness. I do remember that either Lloyd or I grabbed a cigarette from Harding as he passed it into the audience and how excited I was when he and the band started playing "Save a Little Room for Me," which remains one of my favorite songs from Harding's catalog.

My brother and I went to see Cracker there, probably in 1992 or so. Two things spring to mind when I think of that show.

First, I remember being pressed right up against the stage during "(I Was Born in a) Laundromat." I looked across the way and made eye contact with a young woman. I smiled. The way she was staring at me, though, was kind of strange. Then her eyes widened, and a wave of crowd surfers crashed over me, pinning me to the stage beneath the pile of their bodies.

Second, as we walked out from what I guess must have been a pretty early show, we bumped into my future sister-in-law and her friend just coming in for 1980s dance night. I can't even remember if she and my brother were together at that point; but they exchanged a quick, cursory greeting. Then my brother and I headed home.

Here's where the chronology starts to get a little hazy. A bunch of friends and I went to see They Might Be Giants one hot summer evening. If it was during the Flood tour, it would've been around 1990. I feel like, though, it was probably Apollo 18, putting it closer to '92. Anyway, I just remember that it was brutally hot. I was standing behind my friend Dina, and her long hair kept getting stuck to my sweaty face. One of the Johns commented that Asbury Park was where bands truly showed their mettle because it was there that bands were put through the "oven test."

Finally, most importantly, and most remarked upon by me, CoolMom and I went on one of our earliest true dates (I like to say it was our first) to see Paul Westerberg at The Fastlane. This would've been for 14 Songs, making it 1993.

Now, I've scoured the Internet for even a scrap of information about this show. I am positive that it happened at The Fastlane. The only thing I've come up with, though, is a bootleg CD called Gravel Pit that fits the time almost perfectly. But it supposedly took place at The Stone Pony. Either Westerberg played two shows in Asbury Park between 1993-1994 or that CD is mislabeled. I haven't heard it, so I can't confirm whether or not The Stone Pony gets a specific shoutout.

At any rate, it was a momentous show for me, for obvious reasons. I remember standing extremely close to one of the speakers -- so close, in fact, that I have this image in my mind of CoolMom actually sitting on top of it. I remember that Westerberg wore a burgundy velour or corduroy blazer (Strangely, I feel like John Wesley Harding also wore a burgundy / maroon / red blazer, oversized in the shoulders). I remember being totally smitten with this woman with whom I'd been drinking buddies for, probably, the previous year. We'd originally bonded over loving the same music, and here we were watching one of our heroes.

I'm sure I saw other shows there, but those are the ones that stuck. And I'm not sitting here crying over the fact that the empty, now blue structure is going away. I actually think that some outdoor space at Asbury Lanes will be nice.

We're getting closer to losing Maxwell's, the jewel of the New Jersey music scene. Thinking back on The Fastlane, that space with the carpeted bleachers, and all of the acts that came through there kind of makes you think that, maybe, Asbury has a chance at filling the void that will be left after July 31st.