doodlemaier: (Default)
Snicked from [livejournal.com profile] deviathan. . .

Here is how it works. Copy this list. Leave in the bands you've seen
perform live. Delete the ones you haven't and add new ones that you
have seen until you reach 25. An asterisk means the previous person
had it on their list. Two asterisks means the last two people who did
this before you had that band on their list.
1. Jane's Addiction
2. Nine Inch Nails***
3. Queensryche
4. X***
5. Genetorturers
6. Pink Floyd
7. Marilyn Manson
8. Siouxsie and the Banshees**
9. VNV Nation*
10. Ozzy Osbourne (back when he still spoke in complete sentences)
11. Violent Femmes
12. The Sundays
13. Cyndi Lauper*
14. The Faint*
15. The Smashing Pumpkins (at the old 9:30. . . w/ the pole, remember that place?)
16. The Red Hot Chili Peppers
17. Aerosmith
18. Nickel Creek*
19. Thievery Corporation
20. Grateful Dead
21. No Doubt
22. Dresden Dolls
23. 10,000 Maniacs
24. Birthday Massacre
25. Erasure*


And as for the rest I'll just have to draw a blank
doodlemaier: (PartyDevil)
Scotty and I hit John's in Fairfax to hear Alowishious Farhatt and the Soapbox Derby Revival Band who played three separate sets for an almost empty house. Good, tight, and steady musically, but IMHO they just need to work on their stage presence some. They were followed by Mike Wilkenson (only web presence I could find - he's listed as a host) and Dan who were amazing with only the two of 'em and a couple of guitars doing Merle Haggard covers and related prison/drinking/driving/music about trains. Both acts did Mamma Tried and Steve Miller's Joker providing a good impression of the musical differences between simplistic consistency & practice vs. team effort & digital processing. Good show, though. I hope next time I can convince more folks to come out; although I'll hold out for a better venue.
doodlemaier: (Alone in the dark)
Lots and lots going on this weekend; not that I necessarily want to share all the juicy details here, but let's just say 'Wow!' and give a big 'Hell yeah, git down (on the floor)' and leave it at that. I will say that H took me out to further my re-socialization (as if to pick up right where I left off so many years ago. . .) She introduced me to a few of her friends from Philly, particularly Tim and Jenny fur; you kids rock and I can't wait 'til we can have some time to sit and chat (estimated invasion of Philly late October sometime); bar-side was cool but maybe where we're not at the bottom of a sonic ocean. It comes as no surprise that H is surrounded with very cool people; it's just the way she is - not so much what she does, but more about who she is. It goes along way to confirm what I already suspect about personal vibrational frequency and individual gravity. When I consider that we're drawn into each others gravity I feel doubly blessed. I'll spare all further psuedo-scientific hooey for another rant, another day. Let's leave it at what some call luck and still others may call chemistry is certainly good fortune; and, without carving 'D loves H' in the side of a tree I'll proclaim here in a public forum that there are high hopes all around that this last the rest of our lives!


We ventured all the way to Charm-City, Baltimore to a dingy little crack in the pavement, so-called the Vault. Arriving late for the show, we missed Carfax Abbey (H promises they'll be around again soon, and maybe yet another of our corporeal imperatives will leave us late to that event, too. . . Thank you for everything, Babe!) We made it in time for Birthday Masscre; though, where they were definitely a good band, but I allowed my baggage to get in the way of giving them the full appreciation which they deserve; very reminiscent of the old Element days - but, that's my problem, not their's. The rest of the weekend is all ours! Sorry to those of you we stood-up, dissed, missed, and otherwise avoided.

This morning finds me well-rested, rejuvinated and on my way to Norfolk, or thereabouts to deliver my rolling diesel-powered office to it's new owner (I guess I'm not Dumptruck Dean anymore!). Ford L8000. . . It's been real, you fat whore! I won't miss you!

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The exquisite itch

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