A Loving Tribute to Valentine’s for Valentine’s Day
Valentine’s Reunion Show 02/13 @ No Fun, Troy
Throwback photos from Valentine’s by Kiki Vassilakis, circa early 2010s
“Having all of the great scene bands of that era pass through right before they got big was amazing.”
Hey, Greasy! and No Fun have cooked up a unique set of programming for the week of Valentine’s Day. My lovely colleague, Rory Graham, has a preview of the whole week’s events that you can read all about here. Friday’s event is the Valentine’s Week Reunion show where they’ve promised that you can “see your favorite rocknroll [sic] bands from 2010 one more time.”
This constitutes a celebration. A tribute is required. That’s what this is. A celebration and tribute to the beloved music venue formerly located at 17 New Scotland Avenue in Albany. Let’s talk about Valentine’s.
Some Background
On December 21, 2013, Valentine’s hosted its last show. The property was bought up by Albany Medical Center and the building was torn down. I was filled with sadness and nostalgia. The venue I had frequented in my formative years was no longer. Between 2002 and 2005, before I left the Capital Region for a long little while, I spent an inordinate amount of time between those four walls getting my eardrums blown out. The memories of all those great shows flooded my mind.
My first ever hardcore show was seeing Norma Jean with Stretch Arm Strong and The Takeover August 13, 2003. I still distinctly remember the strobe lights they mounted on top of their amps. I’d never seen anything like it. My fifteen-year-old body was nearly mangled in the moshpit. I had the time of my life.
On January 25, 2024, my son was born at Albany Medical Center. My wife endured a long labor. After spending close to 15 hours on the couch by her side, my wife granted me a respite as we were no closer to the little dude making his arrival into the world. I took a walk down New Scotland Avenue in search of some fresh air and a burrito. The memories came flooding back as I walked into the Chipotle located where Valentine’s used to stand.
The feelings were complicated. The sprawl of the medical industry had torn down my beloved home-away-from-home. 11 years later, in that same location, I had the most delicious burrito of my entire life. Oh yeah, and my son was born.
Some Characters
When I was asked — nay, volunteered — to write this piece, I dug through the recesses of my brain to try and recall all the memories associated with Valentine’s. 20-plus years of life and craft beer have been unkind to my memory; I needed some help. Anyone who was still in my contacts and was present during those years was texted. They helped immensely in providing and clarifying details as well as sharing their own memories from the scene of yore.
Have you ever seen the movie Smokin’ Aces? They do this thing where they introduce all the hitmen and then freezeframe on their faces while presenting a short bio. Let’s imagine that as I introduce these people (in order of appearance):
Meg Wahl, formerly known as “McPhizzle”; former scene babe, current dog mom.
Mike Lee, a.k.a. “White Fudge”; former bassist and singer in When Tomorrow Fails and member of the bedroom rap duo Da Rubillionaires; current father of two, IT nerd, and constantly disappointed Tottenham Hotspur fan.
Joseph Donlon or “Joey D”; former guitarist in First to Last and When Tomorrow Fails and the other half of Da Rubillionaires; current father of one, accountant, and guitarist in Sad Dads.
Andrew Beam or “Beam”; former bassist in First to Last and former lead singer in Aura Point and When Tomorrow Fails; current father of two, seller of beer-flavored water, and singer in Sad Dads.
Mark Kutzer, formerly known as “M. Kizzle”; former shredder in The Blind Emotion; current father, husband and incessant poster about the Knicks on Instagram.
John Franciosa, formerly “John Fran”; former singer/guitarist in First to Last and The Blind Emotion and former drummer of When Tomorrow Fails; current father of two, insurance bro, and guitarist in Sad Dads.
Some Shows
“The harder I think about it, the more confused I get,” McPhizzle says.
Trying to recall who played where back in the day is an impossible task. There was Saratoga Winners, Northern Lights, and New Age Cabaret amongst others. The scene was popping back in emo’s third wave.
“Having all of the great scene bands of that era pass through right before they got big was amazing,” McPhizzle continues. “Gym Class Heroes, Taking Back Sunday, Coheed and Cambria. Did we see Every Time I Die there, or am I blurring that with Winners?”
Unclear, but one show I can say happened for sure at Valentine’s was Fall Out Boy on June 20, 2003. This was during the Take This To Your Grave tour. This was before Pete Wentz and Ashlee Simpson, and before they started making insufferable music. Take This To Your Grave was and still is an absolute pop-punk classic.
They didn’t even headline this show. That honor went to The Beautiful Mistake. I can comfortably say I haven’t thought about that band until this very moment. Suffice it to say, this was before Fall Out Boy blew the fuck up.
They closed with “Saturday”. I still remember Wentz ditching his bass for the finale and climbing up into the rafters to scream his refrain: “I read about the afterlife, but I never really lived.” A year later they dropped their EP, My Heart Will Always Be the B-Side to My Tongue. It was accompanied by a DVD that included live footage and Wentz hanging from the rafters at our little hole-in-the-wall was immortalized forever.
White Fudge has always been the responsible one. His memories at Valentine’s are endless. The benefits of not drinking like a degenerate, I suppose.
“I was 13 and it was Sparks Light the Friction, Most Precious Blood, The Movielife and Thursday,” Fudge recalls of his first “real” show. “I didn’t know what real mosh pits were so when Most Precious Blood came on and the floor opened up, I took that as an invitation to go right up to the front of the stage.”
Foolishly, he faced the stage instead of the pit and got rocked in the back of the head twice before he realized he had it all wrong.
There’s also the time he went to see August Burns Red. A Life Once Lost opened the show and Fudge got punched in the face. He was bleeding, but the show had to go on. He decided against cleaning up the mess.
“I went on stage to grab the mic for the singalong during ‘Endorphins’ and the lead singer was disgusted by my blood covered face,” Fudge recalls. “He wanted me nowhere near him. Understandable."
And then of course, there was the time they ran out of PBR at a Sleigh Bells show. Imagine seeing an indie band in 2010 and running out of Pabst? The audacity! The situation was so serious they had to make an announcement over the PA.
The shows are always special, but often the unrehearsed, improvised moments are what really stand out.
“Titus Andronicus came through and there was some sort of issue with the power,” Joey D recalls. “People just started getting on stage and playing songs acoustically. There was an incredible drummer that just rocked a solo set and then another dude played ‘In the Aeroplane Over the Sea’ and everyone in the crowd sang along. I didn’t even get to see Titus that night because it was a weekday and they went on really late.”
He and Fudge also attended an Anathallo show. The headliners were great but it was the opener, Wildebeast, that specifically came to mind.
“He performed his set in the alley next to the Bank of America,” Fudge recalls. “It was spoken word accompanied by wind chimes.”
He can’t recall whether the set was any good or not, but it was damn sure memorable.
Some Stories
— Getting sucker punched by a local “legend.” —
I certainly can’t recall anything about the show, but I’ll always remember my friend getting rocked in the face. We were there to see Chiodos and I don’t think I even got into the venue. By the time I arrived, everyone was already out in the street and my mind was racing.
Did I miss the show? It’s only 9 p.m. so that can’t be it. What the fuck is going on here?
“Someone from The Red Chord got butt naked, whipped out an exercise trampoline, and started jumping on it,” Beam recalls. “That’s when the sound guy went on stage with a bat and cleared the room.”
Well, I guess we’re shit-out-of-luck on seeing a dope show tonight, but we’re already out and about, so we might as well make an evening out of it.
We’re standing on the corner of New Scotland and Morris discussing the backup plans and M. Kizzle has his back to Valentine’s. Still a little disappointed about missing out on Chiodos, I’m half paying attention when I notice a long haired gentleman making his way towards us with a real sense of purpose. It’s the lead singer of a band called The Black Stallions, a band in the scene we always looked up to. Gaining their attention and respect would have been a big deal.
In my naivety, I think he might recognize us from also being in the scene.
But as he gets closer, I am able to make out his face more clearly. He doesn’t look pleased. Closer still, and now I can see that he is fucking mad. I don’t want any part of this. I’m the world’s biggest wimp. I’ve only ever been in one fight in my life and it involved me getting my face smashed into the ground after drunkenly swinging at someone and knocking myself over. This was not going to end well.
M. Kizzle has no idea that an angry lead singer is approaching with a real “fuck you” look on his face. Too late.
“Yo,” he yells in our direction. M. Kizzle turned around to check it out and before he was even halfway turned, he was keeled over, holding his right eye.
This was at least 20 years ago, but I swear this motherfucker looked like Ryu from Street Fighter. He jumped up in the air, yelled “Shoryuken” and then landed a flying dragon punch before anyone knew what was happening. Then, he disappeared into the night. Objectively, it was kind of impressive.
“Between the naked trampoline dude and me getting rocked in the face, I think that’s definitely the best one,” M. Kizzle recalls. “That can be my sole contribution to your stories.”
— Don’t meet your heroes unless it’s outside of Valentine’s —
“We [The Blind Emotion] opened for Secret Lives! of the Freemasons there and I love their first album,” John Fran says. “BEDlight For BlueEYES played that show as well and they have that cover of ‘Jumper’ [by Third Eye Blind]. He sang it a capella by request at the end of their set and it was beautiful.”
The Blind Emotion always ended their set with a song called “Showdown in Boystown”. Beam and I would jump on stage during the climactic breakdown, tackle the lead singer, steal the microphones and scream, “A gun, a brick, a dick, a pen! This will never end.” It was great fun.
After the set, we are standing around outside, being totally responsible teenagers, when the lead singer from The Blackout Pact wanders over.
“Dudes, that was fucking epic,” he says. “I need that to happen during our set!”
We’re not even in the band and he’s paying us compliments? We’re starstruck. Here’s a guy in a signed, nationally-touring band talking to us unsolicited. What the fuck is happening?
The Blackout Pact takes the stage next and absolutely rips. Full of piss and vinegar, the singer commands the stage screaming, “broken lips are all I have to hold me down.” We’re singing along in the crowd and I can't help but feel like he’s making eyes in our direction, looking at us to rush the stage.
There’s no fucking way. We’re not that cool.
After their set, we’re back outside when he finds us again.
“What the hell guys?” he questions. “I thought you were going to come up on stage and sing with us.”
Oh, shit! That was an actual invitation. We apologize profusely and try to make up for our misreading of the situation. Next thing we know, he’s across the street at Stewart’s buying 40s of Olde English for the whole group. Now we’re outside of Valentine’s being super irresponsible.
From here, the memory gets fuzzy, but this was his and our Almost Famous moment. He was Billy Crudup standing on the roof, screaming “I am a golden god!” and we were the local kids who got to say they partied with a rockstar. The next morning he was gone. We never saw him again and in researching this article, I learned that his name was Mike Herrera and he passed away in 2015 at the age of 33. Rest in peace Mike; we’ll never forget your kindness and humility.
Some Conclusions
I hope that reading these stories about “misspent” youth centered around a rock n’ roll club have resonated in some way. Hopefully, you’re reminded of the way that your local venue played an important role in shaping your teenage years.
Venues come and go. Valentine’s, Winners, New Age — they’re all gone now. And yet, no one can ever take away the experiences we shared in those places. Cheers to Valentine’s and thanks to Hey, Greasy! and No Fun for keeping the memory alive.
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