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The Reverend Saves Us All

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Current Mood:  complacent

This has been the week of me having humongous balls.

On several occasions this week, I have done things that I would normally never do, but I grew some balls and did them. It feels good. I’m not going to go into details, but… yeah.

Last night I had the great pleasure of seeing the Reverend Horton Heat in concert again. We got there a little early, and I spent an hour picking apart almost everyone I saw. They all looked like idiots, save for a few. I will say though that there were a few cool people and a dozen or so drop-dead gorgeous “rockahotties” as Jared calls them. I made an effort to go and talk to those few, and so I met some new people. A psychobilly couple from Santa Cruz and Sacramento were there. I met a group of beautiful girls, who, as it turned out, were not drinking age. Which reminds me, there were a ton of little kids there, some even chaperoned by their parents. Seriously, there was a group of 10 year olds (no lie) dressed in full punk regalia. Safety pins, plaid, the whole bit. It was ridiculous. Their poor parents.

The opening band was Trainwreck, and holy shit are they awesome. The lineup includes Kyle Gass or “KG” from Tenacious D. The front man looks like Joe Dirt and dances like a redneck Baryshnikov. There’s no way to explain it to you in words. Their music was OK, but the quality of the live performance was fuckin’ top-notch.

The middle band was the Supersuckers. Their name pretty much nails it. I know they’ve had a long working relationship with the Reverend, but I don’t see why. These guys are garage band garbage. Bloody awful. They had a trophy on stage, allegedly for being the “greatest rock and roll band of all time.” They asked the crowd, “I thought you’d be more warmed up for us… did you want us to get off the stage for the Reverend or do you want a little more Supersuckers?” The crowd cheered for the Reverend… and yet the Suckers played another half set. Monica warned me about them. Again, bloody awful. They should never play again.

Finally, the Reverend Horton Heat took the stage, and well, it was immediately clear why opening bands are just opening bands. The Reverend and crew are just plain amazing. But I don’t need to tell you that. Most of the people who read this will already know. All in all, a fine San Franciscan night. And tonight, the Gore Gore Girls!

On a side note, last Halloween I saw the Cramps with Jared and Mo. The lead singer of that band got drunk on stage and ripped his latex pants off, exposing a flaccid, ancient penis. It haunts me still. But that’s a story for another day. My point is, one of the opening bands was the Eagles of Death Metal. Basically a Rick Moranis type trying to front a rock band. Between every song, he’d say something like, “let’s hear for the ladies.” So much that it was noticeable and pathetic. I wonder if he got laid that night. The band had two drummers. Seriously. So you might be thinking that there was some cool drumming interplay going on there. Nope, they both played identical beats. Bizarre. Anyways, their music grew on me. I can’t explain it. And I can’t defend it.

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