First show is done. It happened at a place called BEAT Factory in a nondescript shopping spot and loft laden portion of Chicago. A burb-burrough? (I know nothing of the terminology which describes big city levels and tones.) It makes me feel very small potatoes, you know?
Not a big turnout. They fed us dinner though (I had "beat salad" which included pears and pine nuts and bacon (asked for no bacon) and some kind of cheese (asked for no cheese). We played with a band J+J+J. I wonder what is going on with the "rave" thing right now? I can't tell if its coming in or going out, but it is totally unstable. The stage was big and the room was big and the merch sold slightly and the carpet was dirty so my feet were covered with what appeared to be black tar of some sort. I washed them in the sink in the bathroom basement which I definitely could not have done if the fans from the early show had still been there because they were terrifying and used way too many paper towels.
THE MUSIC IN THIS FUCKING PLACE IS INVASIVE TO SUCH AN EXTENT THAT MY HAIR FEELS THE TWISTED HIGH-VIBE OF THE TUNES AND REACTS TO IT IN A LATE NINETIES STONER FASHION- "ROCKIN OUT DUDE" WITH THE LEVELS PEAKING AT "WHAT THE FUCK EVER, SMILES FOR MILES" HANGING OUT OF MY HEMP ROWBOAT "WITH WOODEN BEADS ON THE ENDS." OR MAYBE THIS IS THE LONGEST BUS RIDE HOME FROM FIFTH GRADE EVER.
Ok, more "the show." It was a hot and sweltering night, made more sweaty and insipid by the 800 or so fans of "Kill the Lights" and some other rock outfit created by the devil and sent to play in Chicago right before us. The crowd stunk of bilateral hair arrangement devices, These I Saw in the Rest Room where I was "over and over again" wrapped with paper towels and sprayed from behind with aerosol cans. I tagged stall #2 up good for that unwonted debauched shit. Cris Stoll came and we flicked words at each other for a while. He still calls himself a writer when people ask, which was exciting and hilarious, especially when it came to me explaining my "identity crutches".
Nate also showed up, we stayed with him. What a total asshole.
City level note "Wicker Park" was visited today, and with relief I realized that I am for sure NOT a hipster.Now I am going to drink hard liquors with Darren across from the venue. Maybe more later? DOUBT IT.