x-x-x-x-x. Jersey City

Ten/Sept/Six

| | | — | | Shouldn’t even be writing today. Kinda mood where I’ll insult someone just by staring too long. This bitter, aggressive cloud that settles in the base of the skull and brow. We’re goin’ through all this shit with a kid we know on the west coast who’s promoting a show that’s turned into a fuckin’ world of drama. It’s pathetic ‘cause all any of us wants is to make and support some fuckin’ live music. Stress too with these bands in San Francisco about who’s gonna play last, ‘cause we’re all so tired of watching the crowd, stressed and tired, dissapate after a couple of hours of spending on a weeknight.

Last night we had the worst fuckin’ time at this spot in Denver. Last minute show for a few dollars of gas money and it probably wasn’t even worth it. Prick-ass sound people, who I was in no state to deal with, making us sound like fuckin’ shit, confirmed our fans, our songs were almost unrecognizable. they showed up ten minutes before showtime and began sound on the other bands, then took the time off our set. All these Social Distortion lookin cats that probably would love us, if they gave it half a chance. Then the fuckin’ booker rips us off at the end of the night. “Yea, well we didn’t do as well as we thought and you guys are only a two-piece.” Plus someone stole a T-Shirt.

Maybe one o’ those anti-fans. Someone who “loves” you so much they fuck, stress and drain you. Like stealing your shit, or more often your energy. The kind of person who comes to every show and sends out emails to everyone they know in town (who are annoyed by them), telling them how they should come to your show because noone ever comes or dances and they really should see it ‘cause even though it’s not “fun” and you really sound fucked up, your music is important and it’s not fair that noone likes it. Then they show up early and drain your energy, telling you about someone who hated your last show and how bad their life sucks.

During your set they will do one of the following; hang out talking during most of it, stand up front looking uncomfortable and out-of-place, request your most uncomfortable, old material or tell the audience that they suck, and loudly apologize for their “lame” town where noone likes your shit.

Afterwards they will passively insult you while you pack up your shit and stand in front of your merchandice table chewing your ear off while you attempt to commune with people who actually want to buy your stuff, giving you a long list of things you “should” do and describing a bunch of bands that are like you and wondering why they’re doing so much better than you.

Most of these people have the best intentions. They don’t realize they need you to remain unsuccesful so they can commiserate with you. Some of my best friends have these qualities.

I damn sure suffer from attachment to failure and Negative Mental Attitude. Entertaining these demons to the point of writing whole one-act plays to perform whenever they happen by. Workin’ on that shit!

Reading about Steve Biko and the Black Consciousness Movement. That motherfucker raised the PMA of his whole damn race.

Thanks to Bob in NYC. Lost the link to the damn Renegade Geeks video again…

just Broke, not Broken. Mike iLL |

10/09/2006