Look, I recall bit’s and pieces from my childhood, formative stuff, random blips of embarrassment, same with college, same with grad school, same with everything. Yet I’m usually decent at remembering what happened the night before pretty photographically. However, most of Friday, December 16 pulled a full on disappearing act from my memory bank on the Morning of Saturday the 17th.
What I do remember:
Missing The Muddy Reds because they went on too damn early (ed. note: those dirt bags deserve better), and I ain’t make it there until abut when the third band, The Dead Ships, was doing their thing. I was still functioning at that point, watched them until they said “thank you very much.” Then found my way to the van which was parked in the lot. That’s where I guess things started to go sideways (ed. note: I think I set my drink down next to Johnny Elkins, lead singer of The Muddy Reds, but I could have also just chugged it, but he’s definitely a suspect).
I made it back into the Central S.A.P.C. with enough sense about me to catch Vanaprasta kill it. Specifically on “Nine Equals Nine,” and their blessing of the room with a cover of LCD’s “All My Friends.” That satisfied my music fix, I think you can find a stream of them pullin’ that cover on the internet and I highly recommend diggin-on it.
The Perfect Hippie (ed. note: PH) was running around that night, smilin’ from ear to ear, stumbling in his joviality. If y’all spotted him give yourselves a point. To quote that self proclaimed music officianado on the Vanaprasta performance: “that dude just took the room that was all like this,” (and the hippie makes a gesture with his hands to indicate the room had been scattered towards the back) “and he did this with’em” (and the hippie makes a gesture with his hands to indicate that Steve, lead singer of Vanaprasta drew the crowd in like a clenched fist), and he had done just that, and it was pretty legit.
Then after the show ended I’ve got like four memories. Losing the raffle prize. Having the raffle prize and tickets found and returned to me by one of Chach boy’s friends (ed. note: thanks for comin’), looking at Editor Adam and saying “yeah dude, this is not working.” Then there’s the bit where my friend found me passed out in a doorway on Wilshire Blvd., the part where she put me in a cab, the part where I had to get out of the cab, spin a bunch while I puked, the part where some tourists pulled up to us and asked “which way’s the beach” (ed. note: I swear on Riff Raff that happened, although I had to be reminded of it the next day), and then the part where it all went black.
So yeah, Vanaprasta’s LCD cover was epic.
No Ma, I didn’t drink too much, I definitely distinctly recall not drinking my quota, and so either Johnny slipped me a mickey as a joke, because my butt didn’t hurt in the morning so there was no follow through, or someone else dropped me the Spanish Fly, or I’m a wuss (ed. note: option 3 is not possible).
As for the raffle tickets and the raffle, well, here’s the thing, I lost them thingies again, so we’re just gonna have to have another show, where there will be a double raffle prize, because y’all didn’t bring enough cans this go-around. Bring more next time, then we’ll see if you’ns deserve to win something. Until then, this is me saying be responsible kids, play and listen to LCD covers, keep your apple juice with you at all times, and come to our next show. Because it always gets rock and roll.
Track for the Day: “Counting Blue Cars,” aka “Tell Me Your Thoughts on God,” by Dishwalla, on the album Counting Blue Cars/Other Side of the World. Because I went there bitches, and once you hit play there’s nothing you can do but breathe in all that Dishwallaness…
Links for the Day:
– I have the same mission right now... (via Prefix)
– I wonder who she is banging and why it’s not me... (via Under the Radar)