Spike Coffeehouse
122 South Monroe
by Sara Habein



After reading the Local Planet blurb, we knew we had to go:
"...expect whatever you want: recent reports from the West indicate that at Sunday's show, one should expect/anticipate about anything/everything from the three gal bill. From pre-programmed beat-stittering new wave, to boombox hip-hop rock operas, to a wealth of songs about a space scientists who captures girls' universes and puts them in petri dishes where he can listen to them and vicariously experience their lives."

October 12, 2003 -

Anna Oxygen, Pash and the Blow rolled in from Olympia, their gig at The Spike serving as the first date on the tour. "We go to Canada twice," Anna Oxygen said. "See? It's international."

The Spike coffeehouse sat in the location Brooklyn Nights now occupies, tucked inside the alley off Monroe. With the main room part being too small for the show, the owners unlocked the back room (which later became part of Avenue West Gallery). Dark, unfinished and with concrete floors, it held the performers mountain of equipment and a crowd of about 20 people.

Anna Oxygen wore red galoshes, a headlamp, and a flower tucked into her messy pigtails. Blasting classical music while she set up a slide projector, we noticed the white keytar around her neck. "Does Vivaldi get you in the mood for a dance party?" she yelled at the start of the show. "No? Well how about this?"

When she said dance party, she wasn't kidding. With pre-recorded beats and backing vocals from Pash and the Blow, she sang into a headset mic. Her Fischerspooner-esque songs revolved around a scientist and "a girl who lives on a dot graph and is the only one who knows she lives inside a test tube." People danced and clapped along until the end of her set, when half the crowd required a smoke break outside. With my daughter holding her own robot-disco inside me, I found the nearest chair instead.

Sufficiently nicotined, Pash (aka Susan Plouetz) took the stage next. She wore an orange cardigan, green culottes with black leggings and white socks underneath, and red converse sneakers. She also made use of the slide projector and pre-recorded beats, but required no headlamp or instruments.

"So my act is choose your own adventure," she said. "We have two options. We can do a high school theme or dance party. But we already kind of did a dance party, so... um, confer or vote or something." We semi-huddled in the crowd and decided on school. With themes like "Naptime," "Recess," and "Social Studies," her act continued with crowd participation. We laid down on the floor, we slow danced, and had hip-hop dance lessons. Illustrations flashed by on the screen with each new subject. She also auctioned off items of clothing, earning $4.30 and a performance from an audience member called the "STD Rap."

After another breather, the Blow (aka Khaela Maricich) had us all scoot close to the stage. Wearing khaki low-riders and a T-shirt reading "Now," she turned off the slide projector but reintroduced the headlamp. She picked up an acoustic guitar and said, "Wow, where to start?" We've already been through so much together. This is the best show ever!" She played a mix of acoustic and a cappella songs, with Anna and Pash singing backup while the drum machine kicked out moody, atmospheric beats. One song she introduced as, "Sitting in your room in the basement, petting your cat, and you feel so soft. And you're singing this song to a girl, even though she isn't there, you know that she hears you. So you sing her this song anyway." The story continued into the next song with, "Then you find out she has a boyfriend. Yeah, it sucks. So you send her a tape with this song talking about how you know she's just lonely and you're too far away."

But before the night can turn too low-key, she slapped on the headset mic and closed off her set with a full-body dance routine. The owners of the Spike watched from the doorway, looking almost unsure about what they have just witnessed. Breathless and thrilled, the crowd gathered around the gals' suitcases of merchandise, providing them with gas money to continue their adventures. Deelite played over the sound system while we collected our jackets.

Part performance art, part futuristic Ziggy Stardust, and part 1988 dance club, it rocked. In the seven years I spent in Spokane, this was the best show I've ever seen. I don't know if I'll ever see anything like it again.


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