threat codition orange, people. look alive.
i made it through the weekend without any intoxicants. well, i did lick some tequila off a girl's arm, but that was for her sake, not the tequila's, so I'm not counting that. I didn't make it through without incident, however.
tow truck drivers are bastards. i guess they're just doing their job, and i guess someone has to do it. but to charge me $186 to get my car down after I chased him 3 blocks on foot seems a bit cruel. that's $62 a block. fuck that.
saturday began with a dodgers game, which was great, and which was thankfully much shorter than the 3+ hours that a basball game will normally run. then the wives/sharp ease/so damn insane at casa del pueblo, a newish punk co-op spot in echo park. i missed the wives, the sharp ease were great, and I'm glad i stuck around for So Damn Insane. They're best described as 'Fox News Punk,' rabidly and ironically flag waving lyrics and noisy chaoitic music (itreminded me of circus lupus for a moment). and they all switched instruments throughout the show: 3 different singers over the course of the thing, etc. fun and recommended to all. i'm pissed i missed the wives.
these last two days have been a throwback to 1994. sunday night featured a lungfish show at spaceland. i had never seen lungfish before, which is nearly shocking considering they were a dischord band playing at all the spots i'd go to, when i was going to them, while i was living in DC. they were pleasant. glad i caught them. the real story is The Enablers, their opening band. They were a spoken word outfit a la Jim Carrol. Really, I felt like i was going to go home and watch 120 minutes late night on MTV, read Naked Lunch, and then dial-up to the internet at 2400 BPS. 1994 all the way.
Speaking of which: I went through the $1 record bins at Rhino yesterday, and they had a special going wherein you buy $20 worth of merchandise and take home a box of 30 random CDs. I only bout $18 of stuff but I have a way with people who work the register and walked out with one of these mystery boxes. it's all forgotten CRAP from 1992-1994. There were a lot of throwaways from SST records, but my favorite so far is Lyrics by Smiley by Smiley. Smiley is a female MC coming out of Detroit around '94. This record is wall to wall sub par g-funk beats played on a cruddy casio or something, and Smiley mentions her beeper every 6 or 8 bars. the breakout single, it's clear, was track 3, "slangin' hootchie" or something like that. ladies and gentlemen, let me say this: if you're fed up with the 80's nostalgia that's going around right now, please realize that the inevitable 90's throwbacks will in all likelyhood be worse. Imagine showing up to a club and everyone's in flannel and they're playing perl jam or someting. just seriously think about that for a minute. thank you.