The annual St. Patrick’s Day Parade is the greatest day of the year for East Dallas. It is sloppy, it is magical, it is reckless, it is necessary.
A whole Saturday is thrown carelessly into its ether. Swallowing whole any ambitions or responsibilities for a whole city. United in debauchery, the day begins rather innocuously with a family friendly parade down one of Dallas’ main north south thoroughfares. But by the time the massive hoard of people crosses Mockingbird into the M Streets, the feel of the crowd is rapidly approaching a riot. Their only demand? More alcohol.
The Sundown at Granada was ground zero for the partygoers, who all congregated in and around the two-story venue to catch a glimpse of the no cover shows. Reggae on the rooftop for those looking to get high, a DJ playing to a parking lot filled to the brim with parade goers, and live music on the indoor stage that had become a second home to us. I arrived early to catch a set from our good friends in Monk is King, then had the very unfortunate task of hauling our gear through a massive throng of people. We dropped our amps off in the middle of a lights out set from the Ahhfugyeahs, who had the crowd eating out of the palm of their hand.
We played an hour long set at 6pm to the most experienced of drinkers. The lightweights had all gone home by now. These were the real hard partygoers going like they had nothing to lose. This is our type of crowd. A drunk audience is a performer’s best friend.
We rested most of the night after, in anticipation for our long week of driving ahead.