Psychotropic Explorations, etc.
Last night is a bit of a blur, but I'm going to do my best. Please bear with me, etc.
August 22, 2004 -- Asterisk, Brooklyn
If memory serves me, I had a ridiculous amount to drink. It would seem that Kevin did as well, although I doubt that he was doing absinthe shots. Alas. Kevin telephoned me at 11:30 (we were supposed to go on at 11:00) to inform me that I had neglected to call and give him directions. Thus, he arrived 45 minutes later already having hit the sauce a bit at his previous gig. We were supposed to play outside on the patio, but as we were setting up one of the residents notified us that it was a bad idea, at least as far as the dwelling was concerned. So we set up in the back room, where the DJs were trying to get people to dance and weird dudes were rapping poorly. When we were finally ready to play, some dude playing a sampler told us that he had just started his set and we would have to wait. We had no interest in waiting, we'd already waited long enough, thank you. Thus, we found ourselves playing in the hallway again. It was a little more successful this time, as there were less people walking around and unplugging the microphone. The one hitch was that someone had stolen all of my lyrics, but I surprised myself by knowing all the words to seven songs. I did demand that they be returned to me, or I would punch the perpetrator in the nuts or the tits, depending on the gender. It was very, very hot. Apparently people were a little nonplussed when they had to step over me rolling around on the ground to get to back room and/or outside. People kept handing me beer, I didn't even have to demand it as I am so prone to doing. It appeared to be a total success. Kevin and I even did a duet of sorts (although I can't really remember what song it was); that is to say that I was standing on top of my amp on top of a table and kept leaning down to and sticking the microphone in his face so he could scream some obscenity. Some ridiculously unattractive girl kept trying to make out with me, but I declined. Her response was to shove me around whilst we were playing and then grab my balls. She sure showed me. We got offered a show at some lame Manhattan club, but we accepted as it sounded like a good idea at the time and we might actually get paid for once. That is always the dream, isn't it?
We're trying to set up a tour of New York City this weekend. We only have one show confirmed, but we're going to try to play as many as humanly possible. We might even get arrested, god willing.
August 22, 2004 -- Asterisk, Brooklyn
If memory serves me, I had a ridiculous amount to drink. It would seem that Kevin did as well, although I doubt that he was doing absinthe shots. Alas. Kevin telephoned me at 11:30 (we were supposed to go on at 11:00) to inform me that I had neglected to call and give him directions. Thus, he arrived 45 minutes later already having hit the sauce a bit at his previous gig. We were supposed to play outside on the patio, but as we were setting up one of the residents notified us that it was a bad idea, at least as far as the dwelling was concerned. So we set up in the back room, where the DJs were trying to get people to dance and weird dudes were rapping poorly. When we were finally ready to play, some dude playing a sampler told us that he had just started his set and we would have to wait. We had no interest in waiting, we'd already waited long enough, thank you. Thus, we found ourselves playing in the hallway again. It was a little more successful this time, as there were less people walking around and unplugging the microphone. The one hitch was that someone had stolen all of my lyrics, but I surprised myself by knowing all the words to seven songs. I did demand that they be returned to me, or I would punch the perpetrator in the nuts or the tits, depending on the gender. It was very, very hot. Apparently people were a little nonplussed when they had to step over me rolling around on the ground to get to back room and/or outside. People kept handing me beer, I didn't even have to demand it as I am so prone to doing. It appeared to be a total success. Kevin and I even did a duet of sorts (although I can't really remember what song it was); that is to say that I was standing on top of my amp on top of a table and kept leaning down to and sticking the microphone in his face so he could scream some obscenity. Some ridiculously unattractive girl kept trying to make out with me, but I declined. Her response was to shove me around whilst we were playing and then grab my balls. She sure showed me. We got offered a show at some lame Manhattan club, but we accepted as it sounded like a good idea at the time and we might actually get paid for once. That is always the dream, isn't it?
We're trying to set up a tour of New York City this weekend. We only have one show confirmed, but we're going to try to play as many as humanly possible. We might even get arrested, god willing.
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