Sunday, April 29, 2007

Larewnce Welked, and Jesus' Son Smells of Old Crow

(Amended May 2, 2007.)

The Replay gig was, by any reasonable standard of pathology, a strange affair. Analytical drones, surrounded on the adjacent sidewalk by a plague of oafish fratniks, chin-stroked whilst local burlesque bombshell and pitiless purveyor of sarcasm, Lethal Lily, used my thighs to floss her well-apportioned ass. Delightful for us, beyond the pale for those still taken with Godsmack. Rat was off and well into Dolphy terrain before the assembled were able to catch their last collective breath, and although stage acoustics seemed fouled, the audio portion of the video shot by lovely ingenue Lisa revealed surprising clarity and nuance. We thus forgive the beard-scratching...

Not a lot of time to crop, upload and post pics, but we've got tons of 'em, and we'll get to them as soon as we're able. Volunteers have been very, very gracious and helpful - thanks to all of them. Due to their participation we have killer video documention.

More from Denver later,

Tom

---



(The view from our aluminum perch...)



(Graham and Lily... Don't mess with the lidded and looped, compadre.)




(Ben, Rat, Lily, Graham, and a boldly disdainful TS oscillate for the camera... Methinks the lemon couture made someone grumpy.)



(This Is My Condition, with guest saxophonist Dan Kozak. Theirs was an excellent set.)



(Weezer tribute ensemble Color Music strike a disconcerting pose. "My name is Dan! I'm in a band!")



(Monsieur Kozak, chilling between sets...)



(Graham, forever patching pine...)




(Rat: strapped, beery, hellbent for lather.)

Nashville's Burning; Lawrence Beckons...

(Amended May 2, 2007.)

Hello hello hello... I'm writing from a burnished aluminum bench at the Replay Lounge in Lawrence, Kansas. Took us nine hours to drive here from Nashville, and the trip was as absurdly calamitous as one might expect, given our pedigree. This Is My Condition (with guest avant-honker Dan Kozak) began blazing just moments ago, so I ought to bugger off soon. Of course, we've got tons of pix from last night to sort through and post - we'll get to it ASAP.

In brief: Nashville was brilliant... A great set from Taiwan Deth, then bluesy math-rock riffage from Austin's Stnnng, then perverted emo-pop from locals Apollo Up, then us... Mayhem.

Leslie Keffer performed with us. That wild-ass bitch has enormous balls. (And tombstone teeth. And slutpants to spare...) And such a great hostess! Endless cups of Cuban coffee, and many Lindsay Lohan posters to grok... Anyhow, we wrecked the Springwater. Such nice fucking people. Half-strangled shouts to everyone, especially the obviously lost and hopelessly wasted golf shop employee who spilled not one but three beers on the corner of our merch table. Many thanks!

Back to the now - we rev it up in two hours. Updates, a selection of images and (probably) vid to follow.

Love,

Tom

---



(Graham wrings the kinks out of his gear prior to lift-off... Other wrinkles were of course immune to ironing.)



(TS loses his locks, but retains the vanity... Same old solipsistic story.)



(Our beauty school drop-outs have no bloody future at all...)



(GM, newly-scalped, stands tall in Hillbilly Heaven, somewhere the Hell north of Atlanta.)



(Leslie and Ben, rock fucking starlets par excellence.)



(Starsky lives!)



(LK prevents celebutante draft disasters by exiting the TLASILA limo with radio axe affixed to her cookie... Wolcott refuses to peep.)



(A perfect hostess, and America's hottest punk-noise princess... Can we get a slightly off-key amen?)



(Angela... The transmutation of human desire... Sigh, etc. Our loss is Taiwan Deth's immeasurable gain.)