Monday, November 06, 2006

I went to see No Means No last Thursday for only the ninth time since 1989. They seemed well, although both bassist Rob Wright and guitarist Tom Holliston seemed tired. Still, they always play their own brand of complicated jazz-punk as if their lives depended on it - i.e. the only way to play.
My hero-worship of No Means No is akin to what I feel about Mike Watt or DOA - those are some of the only bands out there that have lasted and still participate in the get-in-the-van punk ethos. They'll never be rich or famous, but they are doing what they do out of love and commitment to their music. That's always what I've wanted to do when I grow up.
My Underlings played at Sam Bonds on Friday and it was good. Many work friends were there + of course Monsieur Random and Tina. That night, Dylan and Mikey became a "crack" rhythm section. They truly filled in the cracks and also played like they were on crack. All I had to do was just slop down some music and they would spread it and flatten it out like they were laying a highway or somethin'.

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