Left Foot Green, etc.

August 4, 2005 -- Free 103.9, Brooklyn
Mindy asked us to play her radio show, the theme of which was ostensibly toys. Apparently before we played some dudes were interviewed about such things, but I was out back looking at the Williamsburg Bridge and drinking at the time so I was not privy to such things. Kevin and Laura Hannah went to get some food, apparently. Mindy had a bunch of people from Florida staying at her house so she made them all come over and watch us. In between songs we were supposed to be interviewed about toys, but we only had like, 20 minutes to play so we sort of didn't respond to well to the questions. This was the second night in a row that we were playing in a hot room without air conditioning so there was much sweating involved. Since there were 20 people in the room and 10 people listening on the radio, we sort of played more for the humans we could actually see with our own eyes. We debuted "Earth Angel", which I probably fucked up almost as badly as I fucked up "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer", although it is hard to say for sure. Kevin was in top form, apparently. I got a little tired so I was lying on the ground, which Kevin responded to by putting his chair on top of me and playing like that. I'm not sure if you could hear it on the air or not but we were throwing each other and drums around the room quite a bit. We were playing Twister or something during "Fly Me to the Moon", I don't remember the details but I think most of our limbs were tangled up and drumsticks were flying about and someone was singing it but I don't remember whom. I might have been drunk, but I am admitting to nothing. After our set we took some trivia quiz and one, we were the only group to actually get a question correct. If you are curious, the answer was "Husker Du", and Kevin got it, not me. Sigh. Since there was no prize it didn't really matter anyway. I went downstairs after the show and some of my friends were hanging out down there, they heard bodies colliding with the floor and thought that it might have been us but couldn't tell for sure. I suppose we don't make distinct enough sounds, I don't know. If you're lucky I'll see you in the pit or in heaven or somewhere, but remember to bring a drink for me, save the last dance for me.

310.9 Degrees Kelvin, etc.

August 3, 2005 – Glasshouse, Brooklyn
It was, how do you say, much like a sauna in there. The sweatiest show of my career, maybe. Actually, I cannot remember the entirety of my career right now, but it was certainly up there. We played with Wives, Chinese Stars, Bird Names and Scalpels (Japanther was supposed to play but back out a few days beforehand, and Cheeseburger elected not to play for reasons mostly unknown, possibly because it was too hot and they were too drunk, I’m not really sure). I would like to think that we were in top form, but I was drunk and sweating profusely (I think I might have lost a pound or two), so I might have been hallucinating. Lately Kevin has really been enjoying throwing one or both of his sticks high in the air and then occasionally catching them. By occasionally I mean not very often. By not very often I mean not at all. The vast majority of the people there left the room just as we were about to play, perhaps it was the heat or the fact that they were maybe vaguely aware of the fact that we were playing. It could have been for any number of reasons, I suppose. I am not a mindreader, despite my protestations to the contrary. The temperature of the room dropped a few degrees when they left, so it might have been for the best anyway. I’m not sure that people really felt like they were in Rio when I attempted to tell them all about the Girl from Ipanema, but I did my best to make them believe that they really were in the southern hemisphere. For some unknown reason Kevin started playing the drumbeat to Sunday Bloody Sunday, which is all good and fine but the only words I know to that song are those. So I crooned “Sunday, Bloody Sunday” a few times and then threw in a “Sabbath Bloody Sabbath” for good measure because it seemed like a good idea at the time. I borrowed Chinese Stars’ drums for a few minutes so Kevin and I could solo together, although I’m not sure that it counts as a solo if two people are doing it. Semantics, I know. Regardless, I believe that we played quite well and received a hug or two after the set to that effect. Thank you, my friends. Come to think of it, I would like to thank Stephanie Wakefield for holding my glasses during the set, I’ve broken too many pairs already and it is hard to find a spot that is safe from Kevin Shea, what with the drumsticks and the humans and the microphones flying around, etc. Let’s fall in love!

Confidential to Broke in Brooklyn: Dude.