I liked it. Louie not as much. Candy liked it. I forget to take Yoko and Grimlock’s temperatures on it. The OAM (Original Act for Mankind) theme for this gig was a corporate training session entitled..
Better Living Thru Rock
We all wore acrylic, ugly sweaters. We figured we’re too ugly to try and look cool anyway. I constructed a flipchart presentation to introduce every song or “agenda item”. Most were composed of formulas like “99 virtues < 1 vice” or “fucking = 1/killing”. A brief explanation was offered and we went into the song. Yoko liked this bit, so did the stage manager, Chris Ritchie. Nobody else offered praise. Louie complained about the sweater. I highly enjoyed delivering better-living training in tandem with our rock show. I may break our OAM rule for each show and do that again.
Chris Ritchie, fooled
Chris was the stage manager for our venue, The Reverb. He did a good job. We liked him. He got to know me before the show in a white shirt. For the show I put on the sweater and then took it off as soon as we were done. 20 minutes later I’m hanging out with my beer and Chris comes next to me “Hey dude.” I say hey. “That last band was awesome, fuck, I really liked them. So not what you expect you know and that lead guy with his whole presentation thing? It was like a Talking Heads show. You know how David Byrne mixes in different..” I wondered for a while if he was playing me. I waited until I was absolutely sure he didn’t realize he was talking to me about me. Then I let him go for another minute enjoying the surreal experience. Then I told him. He was like “fuck off, no, you’re, oh shit, really, I, fuck, HA!” with hands over his eyes looking at me between his fingers with difficulty. Hee hee.
Triggerfinger from Belgium, I am sorry
The second band after us was Triggerfinger from Belgium. The lead guy looked like Wayne Coyne. They we’re an awesome trio. They we’re old men like us going epileptic all over the stage, art meltdown sounds that just worked. We we’re watching and loving it. All of a sudden: tragedy. “Lets go checkout what’s going on at Lee’s Palace” someone says. The sparkle of venue hopping crushes all common sense. 10 minutes later we’re at Lee’s watching… it doesn’t matter. Spilled milk.