George Martin Tap Room in Douglaston may be an upscale restaurant and watering hole in one of the city’s more affluent neighborhoods, but for a growing number of budding musicians, it’s an artistic oasis.
The management of the eatery, faced with the same slowdown as everyone else in their business, took a novel approach designed to liven up one night a week.
In late April they declared Thursdays “Open Mic Night” in the bar, at 42-15 235th Street, by the Long Island Rail Road’s Douglaston station.
From 10 p.m. until closing, musicians – solo or full band, acoustic or electric – are invited to “Walk in, plug in and play.” The house is supplying equipment, through the auspices of “Shoob.”
“But this is really great,” Tommy observed. “Some of these kids are pretty good, and their friends are here for the music – some of them drink, but they’re not getting drunk or causing trouble.”
Fred Maloney, 25, a graduate student of accounting at St. John’s University during the day, was completing a set, to hoots of appreciation from the crowd. “I’ve been playing for 10 years; I’ve been good for about two years…well, ‘okay’ for two years,” he said. As Maloney retired to the audience, “Dinner Ladies” set up.
Despite the name, this group of pals from Hofstra University consists of guitarist Andrew Harris; drummer Ryan Pederson; Owen O’Neil on bass; trumpeter Gabriel Abinante; Ray Hoffnaser at the keyboard and vocalist Matt Lazzeretti.
“They’re really great,” said Victoria, a “best friend” who sometimes sits in with her Viola. Her friends, Sophie Kybert, and Abby Brenker, both 22, agreed, extolling the band’s expertise, especially their rendition of “Hurricane,” by Bob Dylan.
The young ladies, who proudly proclaim themselves “roadies, not groupies,” went wide-eyed when informed that in a previous incarnation as the “Weeping Beech,” no less famous an elbow than Madonna’s had graced the bar at which they stood.
A moment later, they were swept up in the driving beat of their pals’ rare public performance. Given their youth and limited time together, the set was brief.
As the ecstatic young rockers drifted outside to savor their moment “on the stage,” they grappled with the logistics of rehearsing more songs, once they scattered to their homes – spread from San Francisco to Massachusetts – this summer.
Inside, a possible Bob Dylan of tomorrow plugged in and began to play.
