ROCK CLUB INVESTIGATION LAUNCHED
MISSING: ONE REVIEW OF THE GOSSIP SHOW
Not even a murder/suicide can stop the rock. This show was on Sept. 16--where the fuck is this review?
MISSING: ONE REVIEW OF THE GOSSIP SHOW
Not even a murder/suicide can stop the rock. This show was on Sept. 16--where the fuck is this review?
THEY WEAR BLACK ON THE INSIDE, BECAUSE BLACK IS HOW THEY FEEL ON THE OUTSIDE
Club-kid cool descended on
I will review the show, but first I would like to talk about the genre of techno, more recently dubbed “electronica” (in my younger years, the Ladytron sound at times would have been called “industrial” as well, but I’ve got better things to do than try to keep up with all these silly-assed labels—I still don’t know exactly what “emo” is). Whatever you call it--and I’m calling it techno, so don’t give me any lip about it—the terms tend to be applied to those bands (or DJs) that rely on a bass-heavy, beat-driven sound, with keyboards and Commodore 64 computers and such. In a nutshell, anyway.
Admittedly, it’s easy to make fun of techno. First, there’s a close association with
Another crime laid on techno’s doorstep is the heavy reliance on samples, loops, beeps, and other R2D2 type shit. Are all these beeps and whistles meant to be music? How can a band that doesn’t play its on instruments, or write music, properly be considered a band? And why are they handing out Star of David armbands to all the Jews in the audience? Why, God, why? Actually, the armband thing most likely hasn’t happened, yet.
But I have not come to bury techno, but to praise it. The godfathers of it all, Kraftwerk, formed in 1970. Now I ask you, consider the music of the 1970s. Wouldn’t a little robot music be refreshing after listening to a 20-minute tantric masturbation session of King Crimson singing something like “Larks’ Tongues in Aspic, Pt. 1”, or enduring a never-ending procession of quasi-Robert Plants and ersatz-Mick Jaggers in tight pants? Wouldn’t you just, for a moment at least, wish that Roger Waters would just shut the fuck up about his mother, and perhaps consider taking a shower and buying some nicer clothes? Wasn’t it time for a little minimalism? Kraftwerk—not to mention people like David Bowie and Brian Eno—certainly thought so, and thus started adding those beeps and bwoops to their songs, and the ball was kicked into play.
Now, 36 years later, we have a long list of techno/electronic bands that were/are pretty good and span all styles of music, from the rock-influenced Chemical Brothers, LCD Soundsystem, and Daft Punk, all the way to the gay aerobics sound of bands like Depeche Mode, OMD, Erasure, and Bronski Beat, and everything in between. It’s no longer taboo for bands such as Radiohead and others to incorporate synthesizers and turntables into their music. So get over it, already.
(This presents a good opportunity to insert a joke—I always thought that “OMD Found in
Even the Nazi thing can be finessed, kind of. It’s no secret that Nazis fascinate people. We keep making movies about them, so much so that I think there should be a new Oscar category for Best Portrayal of a Nazi. It all comes down to the pageantry and uniforms. Preposterous? Not so. Josef Stalin and Mao killed nearly twice as many people as Hitler, yet no one’s making movies about them. Why? Bad, brown, lumpy uniforms, poor haircuts, lack of style. So techno kids dressing up in their stylish, severe outfits? Ach, it’s not so bad. Trying to look like an ubermensch, it’s no crime. I look at all the fucking fat slobs out on the street today, and I can dig it. Just don’t start looking at me like I’m
Okay, the show. Ladytron, true to form, came out looking like the children of Peter Murphy. I was going to say the love children of Peter Murphy and Siouxsie Sue, but I’m pretty sure Peter Murphy would not need to impregnate a woman in order to have kids. Rather, his children would descend from his groin area in a pod, fully grown and wearing black spacesuits. Only Bulgarian keyboardist and “vocalist” Mira Aroyo was wearing a black spacesuit, but the rest of the band was wearing clothes best described as what would be worn in the Death Star, on casual Friday.
By the way, on the way over to the show, we decided that
Okay, stop distracting me, I’m trying to review the Ladytron show. First, the cons. One of the best attributes of the
right next to the speakers. Second, and I mentioned this earlier, Mira Aroyo has a terrible voice and should not be allowed to sing lead. Backup, yeah, but nothing else. But my biggest beef with Ladytron was that, for large portions of the show, I felt like I was hearing the same song, over and over. Not only the same song, but the same gloomy, dark, rainy skies over
Some highlights from the show included “International Date Line”, “He Took Her To A Movie”, “Send Me A Postcard”, “The Last One Standing”, and “Destroy Everything You Touch.” “Seventeen” and “Sugar”, unfortunately, didn’t match the album versions. Ladytron also sported a “real” band—a bass player, guitarist, and drummer, and the drummer in particular stood out.—one long-assed solo combined with liberal use of the strobe nearly induced a seizure.
Lastly, the crowd was pretty fascinating to watch—there was some full-on disco dancing taking place, with a large contingent of gay club kids in the house. Still, overall, I was somewhat disappointed with this show, especially in comparison with other shows I’ve seen from similar bands—the Orb, Underworld, Sneaker Pimps, Kasabian. Give this one a 5.9—above average, but left me wanting. This band is better on CD than they are live.
Citrus by Asobi Seksu - I'm a sucker for that My Bloody Valentine and Jesus And Mary Chain sound and no one does it better than Asobi Seksu (well, maybe Sereena Maneesh). I liked their first album, but I love this one.
The Loon by Tapes N' Tapes - I love "Cowbell" off The Loon, but one song does not a great album make. Tapes N' Tapes deliver the goods on this excellent debut, spinning out numerous winners. They've nail indie music's prevailing sound (you know what I mean: Arcade Fire, Wolf Aprade, etc.). It's basically an evolution of what the Pixies, Talking Heads, and Pavement made when we crushing ass back in the day (those days are long gone). I'm surprised this album hasn't caused more of a stir among the music dorks of the world. What's wrong with you people?
Shut Up I Am Dreaming by Sunset Rubdown - Wolf Parade put out a great album last year and this is just as good. So many side project go awry but Shut Up succeeds with it's sweeping sounds and skillful sybmbolism (that's alliteration, bitches).
I Am Not Afraid Of You And I Will Beat Your Ass by Yo La Tengo - See my earlier review.
Night Ripper by Girl Talk - It's hard for me to lavish praise on DJ's who do mash-ups. How hard is it to take something cool from one song and pair it with something cool from other songs? Not overly creative and not exactly rocket science. However, what Girl Talk does on this album is truly inventive. He isn't just mixing two songs, a la Danger Mouse and The Grey Album (we can debate the merits of that another time). He creatives whole new songs by splicing and mixing hundreds of samples. Such a patchwork approach would lead to a disjointed sound in the wrong hands. Girl Talk crafts an entire album of great songs that are incredibly fun. Music dorks can try and pick out the insane number of samples, while people with lives will appreciate the what's basically a fantastic dance album.
The Dust Brothers work on Paul's Boutique by the Beastie Boys was groundbreaking in it's use of samples. No album before that utilized samples in such creative ways. Night Ripper is equally groundbreaking and shows the true potential of this stealin' style of music making.
This may be my favorite album of the year.
[editor's note: The Evens show at Fort Reno was on July 31st. Beter late than never.]
Our futures were on full display as the wife and I packed up a blanket and headed out to Fort Reno for the Evens show. (side note: We decide to skip DCIC since they're basically are a Jazz band. We all know the rules regarding Jazz. Even outside of Rock Club, I avoid it. Perhaps this is foolish and I'm missing out on something great, but I doubt it. I've heard enough Smooth Jazz to know the other types of Jazz probably won't win me over.)
We arrived just as the Evens were about to go onstage. We scored a nice spot on the lawn with a clear view of the stage. After plopping down, I noticed a strange thing. Kids. Lots of them. The little bastards were everywhere. It seems all the Minor Threat and Fugazi fans have grown up, got married, and had kids. I found this comforting. It's nice to know I'll be able to enjoy some rock even after I have my seven kids. ("Seven?", you ask. You may think Jenny doesn't have birthing hips, but we'll prove you all wrong.)
The music itself was great. For some reason, and I can't put a finger on it, they're better live than on my iPod. Seeing Ian MacKaye rock out while sitting down was amusing. Not unlike his fans, he's mellowed a little bit through the years. However, his lyrics still have plenty of bite to them, especially for the politicians. Ian's banter was pretty jovial in between songs, except for his comments on the Iraq war. I don't know why I expect him to always be pissed off at "the man". It's good to see he can be relaxed once in while. He was even amused by the ice cream truck parked nearby that waited until they were between songs to play it's Pied Piper music (which prompted a stampede of kids to the truck).
The best surprise of the night was Amy Farina on drums. On the record, her drumming and voice are less than stellar. That was not the case at Fort Reno. She sounded great. I'm really looking forward to their new album in November. It'll be interesting to see if it lives up to her live performances.
So what's the moral of this little story? You're never to old to enjoy rocking out. Even if that means bringing the kids, having a picnic, and paying $24 so the kids can buy overpriced ice cream from the ex-convict working in the truck. In the end it'll be worth it.
Since I have very little creativity when it comes to writing, I will use Sprys template as a guide. First of all, I am glad we got tickets ahead of time, because by the time we arrived to the Black Cat on Wednesday night, the show was sold-out. Lucky for us our good friend Potsy, due to his proximity to 14th St., has become our ticket resource. We got there in time to only see 2 tunes from opening act Chad Vangerlingsomething....I wish we had arrived a bit earlier because his stuff sounded interesting, but I cant technically review his performance based on what I saw. The headliners came on after a very short break between bands. I think I was expecting a more "hippie" appearance from the band members, but they seemed to have the alternative, Seattle, semi-grunge thing going on. I was trying hard to figure out who the lead singer reminded me of and the only thing I could come up with was a thin Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull, sans flute...
Except instead of playing "Aqualung" (WTF is that song about anyway...,please weigh in)or "Thick as a Brick" (we all know what that is about...) he played inspired indie tunes which sounds a bit like My Morning Jacket (mainly due to his voice) I cant really remember what the other band members looked like, except for the guitar player/keyboardist on the far stage right. He appeared strangly out of place, wearing a button down oxford shirt and a clean cut demeanor. Kind of like that guy you knew in college, who dressed preppy yet smoked more weed than Snoop Dogg at an IMAX movie.
The music was very good, not great, but definitely above average. They played their entire debut album and threw in a few new songs and some covers. The ELO cover was surprsingly good and included a heavy guitar solo. I was waiting for the lead singer to put hims arms around the lead guitarist a la metal bands of the 80's. Yes, Kevin DuBrow, I am talking to you...
All in all, a very good show. In fact, I even bought a poster to hang in my daughters room, she seems to like it. I am the coolest dad on my block (not saying much...) On the RC rating scale I would give BOH a 6.8, which seems to put them above the mean in the past 2 months worth of shows. I apologize for using the sterotypical template, but at least I got to use some pictures (thanks Jimbromski...)
I know it's not my concert to review, but I have to chime in and post a few comments on The Gossip show. I'll try to be measured in my words and not go overboard. I'm sure those not in attendance will say I'm exaggerating simple to bust chops. I assure you this is not the case. And with that…
Rock Club has not seen the likes of a band like The Gossip. There was an energy, excitement, and force onstage that few bands can muster. The lead singer commands attention with her incredible voice. It's so amazing you might overlook the great musicians behind her. The guitarist (and bassist on some songs) and drummer simply kick ass. Think of the White Stripes' most rocking songs. Now think of those songs going to eleven. Got it so far? Now add some Sabbath. Yeah, it's like that.
I'll be listening to The Gossip for the rest of the day. The songs are great but nothing compares to seeing them live.
Reading Dan's show review of the Fake Accents show got me to thinking. It seems there is, in fact, a Rock Club show review template, which basically consists of writing about whatever you feel like writing about, and then somehow shoehorning in a sentence or two that actually pertains to the music you heard and the band you saw.
So what to do? The shortcomings of our collective reviewing M.O. really hit home for me after reading some real journalism at some real websites. Let's do a little compare-and-contrast between what I call "real writing"--writing that's intellectual, probing, thought-provoking, and has a high number of three-syllable-or-more words.
To wit, on August 28, Pitchfork ran an article on Sleater-Kinney's last show, while DCist.com posted a review of Middle Distance Runner's new album, Plane in Flames. Now, devoted readers of the Rock Club site (all four of us) know that we reviewed both of these bands. But, like witnesses of a car accident, different people have different takes:
Sleater-Kinney
Pitchfork: "Every Sleater-Kinney fan has a personal-inspiration/awakening story: the time Sleater-Kinney had a direct effect on her or his life. The first time they heard a band singing about feminism. The first time they saw an all-female rock band writing their own songs. The band that spurred their move to Portland. All the stories are important, they ripple out, and fans at their final show were eager to contemplate it. Nicole Georges, a beehived zine queen, remembered driving to see them in Lawrence, Kansas at age 16, only to discover the show was 18 and over."
DC Rock Club: "Sleater-Kinney absolutely rocked out. The core of the group is the drummer. We knew we were in for a drum clinic, when a roadie placed a binder containing about 20 drumsticks behind the drum set. And these weren't chicken drumsticks, although she's a healthy-looking girl and would appreciate some KFC during the show."
Pitchfork: "In 2000, the culture which nurtured Sleater-Kinney had shifted. The woman-positive/woman-populated landscape of both independent and popular rock music was now comparably bereft of female voices. Riot grrrl was dead; even the Spice Girls had broken up. Bill Clinton was soon to be out of office, and the Supreme Court had appointed the woman's rights-hostile Bush II....One Beat, Sleater-Kinney's broadest work, was a stunning look into the cycle of life and death. It reflected the preternatural joy and mystery of childbirth-- Corin Tucker had just given birth to Marshall Tucker Bangs, her child with filmmaker Lance Bangs-- and the primordial fear, rage and sorrow of 9/11 and the quagmire that followed."
DC Rock Club: "Seriously, I haven't heard drumming like this since Animal on The Muppet Show. I enjoyed watching her tits shake while she went off. As you can see from the picture, she's built, and I'm sure if we mated she would give me many fine sons, who when grown to adult-size could fell many acres of timber and plow my lands. The reality is, she'd probably throw me down and have go at me with the strap-on."
Middle Distance Runner
DCist: "There’s a continuing transition from softer melancholic moments to faster paced guitar driven melodies. It may take a few listens to get used to, but it ultimately works well, creating a style and identity all the band's own. Where other new artists have failed, MDR has succeeded in developing a uniquely diverse collection of songs, which rather than classify them as amateurish and unfocused, exhibit a local talent that has emerged from the rest of the pack."
DC Rock Club: "...MDR came out flaccid. If they were a sports team, the coach would have had to call timeout after the first ten minutes and make the band huddle up so he could yell at them."
DCist: " 'Naturally' has a solid hook that leads the listener in with its addicting, cleverly written pessimistic lyrics and rhythmic hand clapping. Surprisingly, the rest of the album veers away from the direction of this pop sound, with more experimental tracks like 'Out of Here' and 'The Madness' that demonstrate their (frequently mentioned) Radiohead influence, especially in the Thom Yorke-ish vocals."
DC Rock Club: "MDR is more likely the CD you'll listen to when you're in your house, or car, or S&M basement dungeon. You know, atmosphere music. However, I was not in my house/car/dungeon, so MDR fell a little flat, in my opinion. Maybe I was tired. Maybe I ain't got it anymore. Don't know, really. They kind of had an ersatz Radiohead thing going, except it was the Radiohead where Thom Yorke goes "eeeehhhunnnhhhhoheeeh" into the mic while the band noodles in the background, not the Radiohead from The Bends, with the, you know, things I like to refer to as 'songs'."
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Analysis
Sadly, one can only conclude that we here at DC Rock Club just don't get it. With our drug-addled, sex-obsessed, jumbo slice-craving, piss-taking, refusal-take-anything-seriously attitude, we have crossed the line from humor to mere throwaway claptrap. Our reviews are useless. All our work is for naught.
Ask yourself: in the year 2525, if mankind is still alive, will the writings of Rock Club live on, or will the societies of the future invent some way to digitally wipe their asses with our musings? Hmmmm?
I, for one, pledge to take everyone, and everything, more seriously from now on. Starting after the Art Brut show. Goddammit, I'm serious.
Today I'm starting a new feature called the Instant Album Review. What's an Instant Album Review? It's a quick write up of a new album. What the fuck did you think it was? Seriously, get your head out of you’re ass.
Periodically, I'll do a full review of particular albums of note. I'll start with "The Big Disconnect" by The Fake Accents. Factoring my usual procrastination, I'll have that done sometime in May of 2006, long after Rock Club has disbanded due to infighting, creative differences, royalty disputes, and a bad crank habit of a certain member (which member is TDB. My money is on Potsy).
Yo La Tengo - I'm Not Afraid Of You And I Will Beat Your Ass
I've never listened to YLT much. I enjoy songs like "Autumn Sweater" and "Season of the Shark", but never gave them such attention. I will now. With a title like "I'm Not Afraid Of You And I Will Beat Your Ass", you sort of expect a great album. YLT doesn't disappoint. After just two listens I already know this will be on my "Top 25 Albums of 2006" list. It starts off with "Pass The Hatchet, I Think I'm Goodkind", which clocks in at almost eleven minutes long. A bold beginning. The song is a rock jam gone right (take note Arboretum). It lays down a throbbing bass line and layers chaotic guitar jams on top for a dish that will satisfy even the most discriminating palette. It's best served straight from the oven with a nice Chilean Pinot Noir. Other standout tracks are "I Should Have Known Better", "The Room Got Heavy", and "Mr. Tough", a horn and cowbell infused number that's catchy like pudding is tasty (that would be "very").
YLT cover a lot of music ground on I Will Beat Your Ass: jam rock, infectious melodies, winding instrumentals, percussion driven head boppers (whoa, that sounds dirty), and even stark confessionals. It's pulled off with such ease you almost forget how many bands fail when trying to be so expansive. Yes, it's a long album, but there's plenty to enjoy.
(Cue the predictable album title puns….)
I'm not afraid to say you should get this album. In fact, if you don’t, I will beat your ass. HAHAHAHAHA! I'm so fucking funny.
As much as I hate to add to the creeping bureaucracy of Rock Club, this one makes sense, and was discussed at last night's show, to much acclaim and huzzahs. The new rule is, whenever an RC member obtains some new music, said member is required to post a review of the new music, along with a 1-10 score. At the end of the year we'll collect everything and have a giant list, which is always fun.
There's no length requirement for the reviews, so all of you less literate, spelling & grammar-challenged members, fret not. Here's some examples for you:
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1) I Am A Power Bottom, The Decemberists: More pound-me-in-the-ass ditties from the progenitors of Gay Rock. Uneven and spotty. Jason likes it. (5.3)
2) The White Album, The Beatles: Never heard of this band before and I don't think they have much of a future if they keep releasing crap like this. Oh-bla-dee-bla-da? Ob-bla-lick my balls, guys. (2.1)
3) Soundtrack to the Movie "Spanglish", Various Artists: The music to the universally acclaimed Adam Sandler/Tea Leoni movie. In the year 2525, all music will sound like this. Genius. (10.0)
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So, there you have it. No matter how old the album, whatever the format, whomever the artist, you have to fucking review it, or I will attack, and you don't want that. So start thinking (see pic below for inspiration).
See? This Asian guy just got some music, and he's thinking about it. That's what we should all be doing.
Fellas,
Not that it's my week to worry about, but since I am thinking of going to the 9:30 club tonight to buy some tickets, I thought I would start the negotiations this morning.
Sacklunch has (I believe) selected the Built to Spill show for his RC week in October. There are two dates, 10/9 and 10/10 (Monday or Tuesday). I have opinions about both dates that basically cancel each other out, so I'll obstain (as I'm want to do). What do you all prefer?
Next, I've lucked out for the following week's show, which is Art Brut on the 17th. This is the same date as the Joan Jett concert at the 9:30, by the way. Sorry, Joan, while you Love It, My little brother just discovered It. "It" being Rock and Roll, of course.
TV on the Radio is also playing this same week (10/15) at the 9:30 ($20). Any interest in that show? That's a Sunday...so check the NFL schedule before you answer.
Lastly, Wilco is playing at 9:30 on the 19th of October. I'm buying a ticket for myself tonight (assuming there are any left). Anyone else interested? Note there is a 4 ticket maximum to buy.
Again, I'm going to get tickets (perhaps for the Jenny Lewis show - also on the 15th) tonight, so if you want me to get yours, you'll need to weigh in here today.
We in Rock Club aren't the most sophisticated of rock critics. We don't focus intently every minute, picking apart the acumen of each musician, or the lyrical merits of each song. It's not like were idiots that sit around and argue about whose dog farts the loudest. We just don't overanalyze the rock. Here's how we break down each band. It's what I call The Rock Review Template:
1. First Impression - Example: Black Tie Revue can't possible be good with a singer that resembles Hurley from "Lost" (he's the fatty for those of you who don't watch)
2. Who do these clowns look like? Example: Jimbromski pegged the lead singer from Art Brut as "Brian Eno with a mustache".
3. Who do these guys sound like? Example: Bang Bang Bang sounds like a really shitty Spin Doctors cover band. If I could come up with a more insulting comparison for Bang to the third, I would. They suck, which leads me to the fourth part of the Template...
4. Do they suck? Example: "Wow, Bang Bang Bang REALLY sucks"
With that in mind, let's discuss The Fake Accents/Evangelicals show. (side note: I'm going to pretend the Arboretum set never happened. I know I'm passing up some good jokes b/c their dad was playing drums, but I'm trying hard to just forget their long, boring, rock jam.) My first impression of The Fake Accents: "Wow, they have an Asian chick as their bassist. They must be good." I then excused myself and went to the bathroom and touched myself. Repeatedly. I cleaned up in time to see the Fake Accents entire set. Right about now you're probably asking yourself, "Who did look like"? Excellent question. Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the Fake Accents:
The main singer was a tall, goofy guy who really got into the songs. The herky-jerky movements reminded me of Napoleon Dynamite and his nasty dance moves.
Their Asian bassist reminded me of Margaret Yang from the movie, "Rushmore". You don't agree? Let me ask you something. Who's the expert on Asian women here? Is it you? No. That's right, it's me, so just shut the hell up.
The other guitarist and singer looked like the skinny dude from "Road Trip". He was in a couple other movies but I can't think of any right now. I'll just point you to IMDB.com. I'm not going to do all the work here.
Finally, their drummer. I couldn't think of anything good, so I'll cop out and say he looked like Animal from the Muppets since he was pretty hairy and like to flail his arms (as drummers are apt to do).
The Fake Accents had a Sonic Youth vibe going: lanky lead singer, hairy drummer, female bassist, and a peculiar looking fourth member. And they did sound like SY on certain songs: ample feedback, reverb, and distortion, along with some big mid-song transitions. The Fake Accents wear their influences on the sleeves of their ironic t-shirts and lucky for me, I happen to like the same bands. They're clearly fans of Pavement and Superchunk. Onstage they demonstrated a bit of "fuck you and just rock" attitude. You have to love that. The attitude was verified after they show when they heard me mention Cedars (a local band that wants to be the next Coldplay). They inserted their way into our conversation just to let me know they absolutely hated Cedars and they thought they sucked ass. Not unlike we hate other local rock clubs who envy our superior rocking abilities (Yeah I'm talking about you, Reston Rock Club #409!).
Summary: The Fake Accents are a solid young band that will give you a free CD if you mention you're reviewing their show on a blog (I actually ending up giving them $5 so I wouldn't be a total whore). I give the show a 6.4.
Wow, I put way too much time into reviewing The Fake Accents. I'm going to half-ass my thoughts on the Evangelicals. Thank god for the Template.
My first impression was, "what's with the fucking fog machine"? The Evangelicals asked for all the lights to be turned off and then cranked up the fog machine to the point you literally couldn't see the band. It was just one loud black cloud. This killed my ability to play the "Celebrity They Most Resemble" game so I'll focus on the sound. They definitely remind me of The Flaming Lips at times and The Unicorns (may they RIP). I only stayed for 6 or 7 songs, but not because they sucked. They were good, but I'm guessing it wasn't their best show ever. Maybe I'll see them again when they play The State Theatre on Oct. 4th (that's the next time I pick the show, bitches). We'll see. Rock Club rating: 5.3.
Let's jump in the way-back machine, to 1969, and remember Rock Club as it originally was:
Rock Club: Hey Dan, this week's choice is between Led Zeppelin, a new band formed from the remnants of the Yardbirds, and the Allman Brothers. What's your vote?
Dan: Well, those are both fine groups, but my friend Jim, who just returned from Nam, said he heard this great new group while he was in the bush...
Rock Club: No, Dan, you always do this. Just pick a band.
Dan: Okay, I'm sorry...hmmm...well, Led Zeppelin's intriguing, but I'm going with the Allmans, because I'm really excited for the opening band, the Vanilla Fudge, because their bass player used to be in a band with the guy from Moby Grape. It's a side project called Fudgy Raisin, they got a great review in Rolling Stone. And he was also the sound technician on Humble Pie's great new album.
Rock Club: The Vanilla Wha...?
Dan: ...Fudge. Remember the name, the Vanilla Fudge. They're gonna be massive. Oh shit, I just remembered, I can't go, I volunteered to take over the campus this weekend. I'm supposed to storm the Dean's office that night. Sorry, guys--my philanthropy comes first.
Rock Club: Okay, well, we'll be off in the corner dropping acid, if you need us. See ya.