even though you wake up at 9am and youre rocking early

and even though youre drinking for breakfast, and even though youre older than pretty much everyone. and even though youre not supposed to still have it, regardless of what the demons in your head tell you, you might still have it. or at least a tiny bit of it.

it was 1am. i had rocked drank ate walked experienced ruled reminisced rolled and drank some more. people buy you drinks, you buy drinks, people give you drinks, you leave a lot of half drunk beers about because theres more sand at the beach. etc.

it was 1am, i had just seen the lemonheads play their classic album its a shame about ray in its entirety because it was the anniversary of that record. 10th? 20th? who knows. 50th? i had just seen my first r.e.m. concert. i had just seen my first this bike is a pipe bomb concert. i had seen the bad rackets i had seen bands whose names i didnt remmeber. i had seen quiet company who ruled i had seen the shout out louds who i deemed the cure jr.

i had seen yacht.

it was 1am and i couldnt call it a night. so i walked up 6th street and i heard a very dark disturbing rock sound coming from an open door. across the street the kids were lined up to try to get into the black keys. why stand in line to take sand to the beach? why not go across the street to see the beautiful noise clearly from the depths of hell? why fight progress? why not enter the club with zero line?

my name is y not backwards.

i entered.

a drunk black dude was caught up in the spirit. he danced and pointed and sent the devil symbol to the band who appeard to be two brothers: one with very short blonde hair and a scary pointy beard, and another with very short blonde hair and a slightly different scary pointy beard. one was on guitar one was on bass. on either side of them were keyboardists: one played organ with his back to the crowd the other played eerie sounds. a drummer bashed away in the center. no one sang. this was music from a time before vocals. sometimes someone would yell into the mic but modern technology either could not or would not transfer the vocals to our eager ears.

20 people were in this club.

one of the persons name was j mascis.

he leaned across a rail, sipped from his beer and watched the mayhem of the black dude literally dancing with the devil. occassionally one guy would approach j and shake his hand. eventually j’s beer was drained so he walked backstage to talk to someone. their conversation was probably: who the fuck is this amazing band? the ancestors? shit man!

this is the reward you get for not calling it a night after the lemonheads and rem and this bike is a pipe bomb.

j’s perch seemed comfortable and my beer had emptied so i got another and leaned against the rail. eventually no one came up to shake my hand but alas one young lady and then another. the second ran off to the bathroom and i nodded my head to the spooky dark music and tried to ignore the very young woman but then a girthy black midget got on the stage. was it a bloated bushwick bill?

the young lady turned to me, mouth agape. i was all, just when you thought this shit couldnt get weirder. she was like, right? the midget was late to the party apparently because the band stopped, no one applauded except me. and as they packed up me and the girl spoke. at first i called her 16 cuz thats how she looked. then she feigned offense. then she said she wanted to move to san diego after learning that i live in hollywood, then she said she was gonna bring her bf. so i told her i gave that relationship 8 months, because men are dogs and as beautiful and seemingly perfect she was omg were those boobs, men are dogs and he would dump her for some asian cutie.

then she told me that theyd dated since she really was 16. so i gave it 5 months. eventually the chit chat made its way to 6th street. then 5th street. then we, she and her friend were at my hotel. then there was j masics. then i had to explain that he was the best guitarist in this whole city. even though there were 1500 bands in this general vicinity.

then i was putting my Canada jacket on her friend, because no way was this sharp as a tack southern girl interested in me, plus her friend kept saying i want some penis. im drunk. penis!

but nope me and the girl kept talking, laughing, offending each other in cute little faux ways.

then j masics was in the hotel lobby so i said dude youre the greatest. its an honor. god bless. and i shook his hand which was hard as a rock.

then me and the girl talked while her friend looking for penis met some rocker dude. and lemme tell you this about self esteem, its completely overrated. you dont need it. if you dont have it, thats fine. just talk to people. talk to everyone. talk to the hottest girl in the club, talk to the raddest guitarist in town, talk to dudes from ireland who offer whiskey as r.e.m. plays fall on me. just talk to people. they will talk back.

some all night.


like youre the greatest guitarist of all or something.

Leave a Reply