i'm lost in the supermarket


i am way overdue for a big load of concert reviews. i wrote that thing about some upcoming shows and now i have gone back and gotten all nostalgic and thought, "hey why don't you share your thoughts on those shows!"

so i will.

well, i didn't go see the murder city devils. or the black halos. things were busy and i think i need a break from those bands for a while. just long enough to bathe and get all indie again only to go on another trash rock binge.

but i did see other shows. i saw buckcherry at starplex although they went on stage at the time they usually wake up on most days. so there was not really a big crowd yet. but i got to see the vip area of starplex and see my boys. as always, i miss them so much after i leave them. i just want to keep them all in a shoebox in my closet and play a badass rock star version of house. but they will be back november 12 at deep ellum live which means that i will see them again soon.

one of the best shows i have seen in a very very long time was elvis costello. i had to go to hell and back to get tickets. i was pretty sure that at the last minute i was not going to be able to get some tickets. a few minutes later, i was on my way to starplex with four free tickets. thank you alex. i heart rem. there.

but honestly, elvis costello's voice has to be one of the best preserved things on this earth short of the magna carta. it is just as crystal clear as it was in the 70's. and he did a good litter of songs. and four or five, depending on who you ask, encores. i think the last encore could have been left out but short of that, it was flawless. i honestly would have never thought that two people on stage, one with a few keyboards and the other with an acoustic guitar would have kept an ampitheater deathly silent in rapt attention. i would consider that one of the highest compliments you could give a band.

one of the most completely fun shows i have been to in a while was the valve/ tommorrowpeople/ chomsky/ deathray davies show. it was at sushi nights and part of the north texas new music festival. which meant that it was not in a yucky club with utility spools as tables. not that there is anything wrong with that. but it was heavenly to walk in and smell sushi and get a big glass of coke and sit on real chairs and see a really good show amongst people who seemed to appreciate it. god, i am turning into such a softie. i swear i will still randomly talk about the suicide of the non-generation and gush about duff mckagan from time to time. but the show at sushi nights was so nice. and i firmly believe that the fender good luck charms that i bestowed upon chomsky made everything work out a-okay. hell, they even projected funny movies on the walls while the bands played. not in a pretentious velvet underground and nico way but, um, well. put it this way, they were movies about icelandic indiana jones and a big furry orange icelandic happy children-loving creature. he repeatedly wrote "Tmmy" on a piece of paper for a group of adoring children. one of whom looked eerily like john mc d. of deathray and chomksy himself. hmmmmm. and they weren't charging for cokes and waters for the first hour. load up on the water before the drunk people need it to sober up, that is my advice. but i had an incredible amount of pretty tame fun that night. rule. and erin organized the cd's in the side door of my car for me. the most worrying pattern we came across was the "aerosmith, superdrag, aerosmith, superdrag" repetition.

chrissy thought i should put this story on my page because it honestly is one of the more interesting things to happen at guitar center during my tenure. we have a custom fender american strat up on the wall in a case with gold bridges, frets, tuners etc. but even more than that, it has a picture of the naked marilyn monroe spread across the pickups airbrushed onto it. so this has to be the most tacky thing i have EVER seen in my life. well, one of the guitar guys came over into my department to tell us that someone was buying it. they were on their way to pick it up. turns out, it was mickey mantle's son who bought it and he came to the store on his custom harley. not only is it as tasteful as you can imagine it to be, the seat is a baseball glove. it was pretty cool in a completely surrealistic way. mr. mantle is a charmer. and his taste in guitars and motorcycles is unmatched. but it is a whole lot more exciting than sitting around being unemployed as i did for a very long time.

by the way, more indie porn is coming soon. i'm waiting for my man. sha la la.


i can no longer shop happily