My ears are still ringing. 3 of the 4 band members of White Light & Royal Flush are in my Psychology class, so when they invited me to the Battle of the Bands, South Salt Lake style, I decided to go. It was at the Avalon, a converted old theater down on State Street; all the seats have been replaced with wood benches and everything is painted black. The Delta Center this ain't. I missed the first couple bands, came in an hour late to see a pretty good band called Perfect Enemy, you could actully hear him sing words and the music had actual rythym. The second band, and for the life of me I can't remember their name (and don't want to), more just made noise and hand a singer that screamed. In the 4 songs they sang I couldn't pick out a single word he sang, um, yelled. It was pretty funny watching him screaming the lyrics; his face all red, mouth & eyes wide open and the tendons in his neck jutting out. One student in the audience (when there was a lull in the screaming) said he looked like a psychotic cannibal. Another student just referred to him as Pterodactyl Man.
My students came next and they were a lot more mellow than the group right before them. They sang some nice songs, none of which I recognized, but sounded like something I would have listened to in high school. At the end of their set the drummer threw his drumsticks into the audience and the bass guitarist ripped his strings off his guitar. I don't think he expected to do as much damage as he did, he wasn't in Psychology class today and the other two told me one of the strigs had flipped back and cut him right above the eye and the guitar rebounded and slammed him in the jaw. Ahhh, the price of fame. And the price of watching this fame was walking around school all day with ringing in my ears and a mild headache. Nobody asked why I was so cranky in class today.....
My students came next and they were a lot more mellow than the group right before them. They sang some nice songs, none of which I recognized, but sounded like something I would have listened to in high school. At the end of their set the drummer threw his drumsticks into the audience and the bass guitarist ripped his strings off his guitar. I don't think he expected to do as much damage as he did, he wasn't in Psychology class today and the other two told me one of the strigs had flipped back and cut him right above the eye and the guitar rebounded and slammed him in the jaw. Ahhh, the price of fame. And the price of watching this fame was walking around school all day with ringing in my ears and a mild headache. Nobody asked why I was so cranky in class today.....
3 comments:
Do they need a harmonica player? I know someone we can suggest..
Dude, Shoulda put cottonballs in your ears. Works like a charm.
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Re: "Do they need a harmonica player? "
Your Conscience responds:
Watch it. Say all you want about Your Conscience's visionary stylings. At least it beats listening to old people shit...
Ooops... Perhaps Your Conscience has devulged to much of what it does in its spare time...
Re: Mr. Cuddles
Your Conscience editorializes:
They didn't ask you why you were so pissy because they were distracted by an encroaching evil upon their pliant minds. You'd be better off avoiding the den of rock 'n' roll iniquity and focusing on what really matters. Let Your Conscience explain.
Your Conscience was at work listening to some good ole cuntry music (104.3 KSOP -- The Cowboy, 'natch) coutesy of a thoughtful co-worker, when Your Conscience heard a radio ad. There about fifteen to twenty of the usual fare (you know, keeping America strong so you better buy a new shed, something about avoiding the IRS, how to get your dream shack in the burgeoning northern Montana suburb of "Kaczynski Gardens" for no money down), but one caught your heroe's attention. It seemes there's one of them thar ro-dee-ohs a'commin'. Fine, fairly innocuous and family oriented stuff. But they have this thing called "mutton busting". Now Your Conscience, being a stalwart communal pillar knows what it knows. All arguments made by the coworker to the contrary, Your Conscience is apalled that the radio would encourage such pornography and filth by publicly endorsing that kids at the rodeo "bust their mutton". Clearly that can only mean the rodeo would include a public competition in which the participants would touch themselves in a unclean and unChristlike manner. We simply don't need good cuntry music -- the type Jesus listened to when he grew up on His ranch in The Texas-- to be subverted by encouraging these vile public displays. Such things are strictly for the privacy of the (male) individual and his spiritual advisor -- Ted Faggard not withstanding... "Mutton busting". What next? Are they going to have the pervs at Jergens or Vaseline sponsor it?
Needless to say, Your Conscience knows where it will be next weekend: protesting this ungodly perversion with its church group...
Our nation is being consumed by sin while you watch little kids try to rock out like they're James fuckin' Taylor or that black Hootie and the Blowfish guy...
This leads back to topic of the OP: you. Oh, that's right. It's always about you. You suck...
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