Monday, December 09, 2002

Hey David-- long time. How have you been? Remember University Apartments. What a hole. Still doing photography-- besides a bass-man, I remember you were an excellent photographer. Are you in the tri-cities? or did the blog find you in a farawayplace

Yo James, still playing guitar? I remember Gretchen and Nina. I tried to track down Gretchen once when the band was in Memphis-- but no luck. Heard Nina was married living in a commune/farm in New Hampshire or Vermont. Too cold for regular humans.

Suffragette city. i like the change from A to F in the verse. besides, it wasn't written by moly hachit, allman bros, blackfoot, fogshat, lenrd skinturd, outflaws, chas danyells, mrshall fucker band, 38 not-so-special, zz flop, or jerknee. i started going to cowboys (and the many incarnations before) in 1980 cause it was the only place in the tricidies to hear a live rock band. Unfortunately I had to endure the same covers of the same tired-ass bands --- it was like every band had the same goddamn set list. gimme 3 steps? gimme a fucking pistol so I can blow my brains out. But...i would go every weekend, cause the overwhelming need for my body to hear loud distorted guitars was stronger than the nausea brought about by the brain-crippling material (also, free beer from 9 to 10). the scene did not develop because the nightmares or any other lame local band caused a stir, it was because around the same time, quarterbacks, the down home and the pub opened it's doors to wanna-be rocker's like myself. we could finally get out of the damn house and torture paying customers instead of just our neighbors. Long live Burt!


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