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Sean Hixson
Fredericks
Music Lounge
4454
Chippewa, St. Louis
314.351.5711
Mon.
to Sat. - –
6 p.m. to 1:30 a.m.
21
and over only
www.fredericksmusiclounge.com
I had
a band in high school. Smegma. Two screaming MCs, a Hendrix-obsessed rhythm
guitarist, a GNR-obsessed lead guitarist (myself), a super raw bass and
harmonica player and a great drummer borrowed from the high school’s Pearl
Jam and Metallica cover band. For 18 months of my teenage life, I had naïve
dreams of musical success, which at that time meant playing anywhere other
than basements.
I had
a huge Fender Twin amp and factory-second C.C. Deville-looking guitar.
I wrote the riffs, and the MCs cranked out the charismatically offensive
lyrics. We touched multiple genres: punk, metal, rap, blues. Our sound:
bad. It ruled.
We
printed a limited-edition set of 12 Smegma t-shirts (of which the band
bought nine). The fantasy even went so far as to plan our mythical first
St. Louis tour. Barb’s Rendevous on Broadway in Lemay, the Arnold watertower,
and Club 367 in North County. Frederick’s the "Music Lounge" didn’t exist
then. If it had, Smegma’s tour would have opened there.
The
anti-club…
One
look at Frederick’s band-schedule flyer shows what drives this South City
tavern — not flashy lights, not fancy frou-frou cocktails, not pretty people,
not fashion, but all-American, sometimes ass-kicking, sometimes subtle,
guitar-driven, dirty rock. Regional and local acts are scheduled on nearly
every date on the flyer. Alt-country, alt-rock, jam-bands, surf, hardcore,
emo, open mic nights, etc. Their wWeb site lists more than 500 bands who
have taken the stage in the "recent months." Cover charges vary, but rarely
exceed $7. Musicians start around 9 p.m, playing until 1 a.m.
A common
patron: the 25- to -35- year-old, cigarette-smoking, cheap- beer-chugging,
The- White- Stripes- listening, denim- and- plaid/plain- button-down- wearing,
club-phobic, male city rehabber. You know, your cool-but-quiet neighbor
across Morganford. Khakis or skirts need not fret, though. This place is
unpretentious enough to welcome anyone who doesn’t act like a self-absorbed
yuppie. Come with your friends, with a date, or alone. The regulars sit
at the bar. As at most rock concerts, men nearly always outnumber the women
at least 3 to-1.
Weekends
are more happening than weekdays, but this can all change with a locally
buzzing band. If sometimes short on high artistic merit, Thursday’s Noiseday
Hootenany is at the very least damn entertaining.
Crowds
are sparse before 9 p.m. While the bands play, people most people sip,
drag, nod head, repeat, then loudly applaud when the song ends. Volume
is kept within reason, allowing shouted conversations if need be. Mondays
offer free movies. Dress is decidedly low key in that it doesn’t matter
what you wear here. No one really cares. They’re here to drink and rock.
Levis and a Rhinelander Beer t-shirt will suffice.
An
unassuming South-side house...
Ignore
all this crap you heard about hitting the door buzzer and having to say
your name before you enter. Frederick’s has a normal entrance. Open the
door, pay your cover, and step down the stairs. Yep, down. This is the
first thing you notice. The bar is below ground level. Walk past the dead
tree and see that Frederick’s is small, very small. With bar and stage
taking up one third of open space, there isn’t much room to lounge.
A few
round tables with chairs and a few more unpaired chairs lining the wall
offer the few places to sit. The 10-by-x7-foot stage sits affront. A hand-
painted island-and-sea wall mural half-encircles the floor. Stag and Pabst
Blue Ribbon ads, bizarre paintings, a chalkboard drink menu, and a box
of faux-dynamite hang from the walls. Bras and panties dangle from the
spinning fans. Other than a few lamps, light comes from fluorescent beer
signs, and spotlights on the stage and drink -menu.
In
the rear, the bar is sheltered by a log-cabin roof. To its left is a little
alcove with a Ms. Pac-Man and unmatched captain’s chair and bench seat
from a van. A Deer Hunting USA upright videogame sits to the bar’s right.
If the Motor City Madman himself Ted Nugent set foot in Frederick’s, not
only would he play Deer Hunting USA, he’d have a helluva a time chillin’.
When
not showcasing Monday’s film, two TVs usually play now-bizarre films or
/videos from our country’s creepy-in-retrospect decade, –the ‘50s. Don’t
be freaked out by the young girl feeding, clothing and sleeping with a
4-foot Howdy Doody-looking doll. FML ranks just behind The Way Out Club
for kitsch-bombed décor. It’s a mess, but an interesting mess.
On
sale...
As
evidenced by the décor and owner Freddy Friction’s predilection
for wearing a Stag t-shirt, cheap beer reigns and the accompanying high
school memories follow. Old Style drafts are $1.50, Pabst Blue Ribbon bottles
are $2.25, and the familiar sweet golden can of Stag is $2.25. Happy Hour,
everyday 6:00 to 9 p.m. daily, slashes prices even further.
For
the rich, Rolling Rock bottles sell for $3, bottles of Heineken $3.50 and
cans of Guinness $4. Cocktails vary by alcohol type: $3.50, $4, and $4.50.
White and /red wines areis $3 a glass.
Bags
of salty snacks to drive your thirst sell for 50 cents.
The
straight 411…
For
guitar-rock of varying intensity, urbane denim-wearers, and cheap-as-hell
beer, head to Frederick’s Music Lounge.
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