Ouch.

Back from the Big Show. Point of order: you know you’re getting old when you’re in not-insubstantial pain the next morning and all you did was stand in the sound booth and watch bands play. It’s a wonder I didn’t break my fucking hip or something.

I got a new favorite band out of the deal, though. Fucking Skeleton Key is teh awesome. I’m listening to the records I picked up at the merch booth last night, and they aren’t quite as direct (or, uh, unrestrained?) as the live show, but they’re very much a Lower East Side art-o-thon in the vein of Cop Shoot Cop or Carbon or that sort of thing, music that is near and dear to my heart. I’m given to understand the lead singer lives in Tribeca, though, which kind of takes the wind out of my sails in that regard. But then again, I live in Mill City, Oregon (pop. 1054) so what the fuck do I know? Paul Barker was, like, “really?” while looking at my as if I suddenly grew a third arm right in the middle of my forehead.

In any case, they were good, and before doors it looked like a who’s-who of 90s Industrial in the club. A little bit creepy. I think the last time that many of us were in one place was in front of the roach coach when Tool was second stage at Lollapalooza, playing Tinley Park. I wouldn’t want to make a habit of that.