Ain’t been many stars since the city filled up with cars.

Howdy howdy. Been awhile. I’ve been keeping myself busy by writing this book I promised I’d finish by the end of summer. It’s coming along wonderfully. I think I might even have a title picked out.

I was dragged into a last minute trip to Six Flags for the first time ever at the beginning of this week. It was pretty much what I expected. Hot, loud, too many kids, expensive…& everything smelled like burned funnel cake & vomit. I couldn’t even smoke cigarettes. But then it started to rain & tons of people left. Man, riding roller coasters & the carousel in the pouring rain is the best thing ever. I recommend it.
Also had my first experience at a Japanese Steak House, that day. Crazy stuff.

Here’s a few mixes I’ve made recently:

For a buddy’s birthday: 6/3/9

1. Genitorturers – Touch Myself
2. Tom Waits – In The Colosseum
3. Portishead – Wandering Stars
4. Gorillaz – Latin Simone
5. Calvin Johnson – Leaves of Tea
6. Dax Riggs – Soul of a Beer Can
7. Adam Glasseye & The Insect Fable – Lay With Me
8. Munly & The Lee Lewis Harlots – Denver Boot Redux
9. Slim Cessna’s Auto Club – A Chi Sa Dove Sara
10. World/Inferno Friendship Society – Millicent Didn’t Want To Wait For It To Get Better
11. THAT Damned Band – Blue Spirit Blues
12. Leningrad – Dikiy Muzhchina
13. The Con Artists Feat. Pete Miser – Ya-takoy
14. Rude Rock Family – Let The Party Rock
15. The Gothic Archies – Freakshow
16. Firewater – Psychopharmacology
17. The Eels – Last Stop: This Town
18. Astronautalis – Trouble Hunters
19. Deadboy & The Elephant Men – Wave of Mutilation

& a mix tape just for the hell of it: 5/28/9

SIDE A:
The Clash – Hateful
Bouncing Souls – Argyle
Avail – 25 Years
Cock Sparrer – What’s It Like To Be Old?
Crimpshrine – Can You Feel That?
The Dwarves – Dairy Queen
Day Glo Abortions – Little Man In The Canoe
Crucial Unit – Baby, I Don’t Wanna Make Out I Just Wanna Circle Pit
The Infected – Chicago Horror
Chronic Seizure – Over My Shoulder
Crucifucks – You Give Me The Creeps
Crass – Don’t Tell Me You Care
Minor Threat – I Don’t Wanna Hear It
Minutemen – Below The Belt

SIDE B:
Gwar – Dirty Filthy
Apocalyspe Hoboken – Sorry
Angry Samoans – You Stupid Asshole
FEAR – I Don’t Care About You
Germs – Let’s Pretend
The Catburglars – I Hate My Friends
Circle Jerks – Live Fast Die Young
The Gits – Drinking Song
The Secretions – Faster Than The Speed Of Drunk
Slaughter & The Dogs – You’re A Bore
X – Poor Girl
American Steel – Or, Don’t You Remember?
Amebix – Drink & Be Merry
Danzig – Blood & Tears

I’ve been meaning to get out of the coffee business for awhile now. Finally got my wish. I’m bartending now.
I get paid to drink & get other people loaded. How kick ass is that?
Until next time…

Dang me, dang me…they oughta take a rope & hang me.

Playlist that is strangely fitting for current times:

Frank Zappa – Broken Hearts Are For Assholes
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band – Bill’s Corpse
White Stripes – Ashtray Heart (surprisingly good Beefheart cover)
King Khan & The BBQ Show – Captain Captain
Mally Page – Life & Soul of The Party
Roy Orbison – Crying
Roger Miller – Dang Me
The Knotwells – Pills
Dead Milkmen – I Walk The Thinnest Line
Sloppy Seconds – Steal Your Beer
The Dwarves – Saturday Night
The Nuns – Do You Want Me On My Knees?
Buzzcocks – I Don’t Know What To Do With My Life
Ramones – Howling At The Moon (sha la la la)
Oingo Boingo – Fill The Void
Billy Joel – Pressure

“Blag Dahlia of The Dwarfs”

That’s what the show poster said. Seriously. Hanging outside The Debonair Social Club, a disgusting freehold for the skinny jeans & dope noses of Wicker Park. Normally, we’d never set foot into a place like this, let alone give it a second glance while strolling down the sidewalk. But it was a free show, until 10, when they’d start charging $12 at the door.
Since Will started working at the bike shop around the corner, he’s been getting neighborhood discounts & privileged information. That’s how I heard about this & I rode my bike faster than I ever had before so we could beat the 10 o’clock deadline. We met Brent out front, smoking a Pall Mall. The only reason I like that kid is because he’s so spaced out & high all the time, making it super easy to confuse him. A real riot. Danny rolled down the street on his giant chopper that he calls “The Dark Knight” & we shouted out to him, “Hey! I know that guy!” Our little group stood around the front door, away from the women with fried chicken looking skin & guys that can only be described as “douche cougar mellencamps”. Unsure if we should try & escape this hell or stick around to feed The Imp of the Perverse & wait for Blag Dahlia to play. Grimacing smugly at the beers we had paid $5 for & the neatly groomed drunks.

Now, I like to think that I’ve grown out of my fan girl days. I don’t hang around after shows & try to talk to the bands I see, because I’ve got nothing to say that they haven’t heard before. Autographs mean nothing to me & I certainly don’t feel right about bugging musicians for photos. But ask me again the day after I meet Tom Waits. I’m sure it’ll be a different story.

Will & I stood next to one another, positioned so that our matching tattoos lined up under our clothes & we simultaneously felt a hand clamp down on our shoulders. Spinning around, we found ourselves face to face with Blag Dahlia, himself.
“You guys are definitely here to see me. Good good. I wanna feel the love when I go on. Stand up front & heckle as much as you’d like.”
Will, being the cucumber that he is, had no trouble striking up a dialog with Blag. But I just stood there, looking up at this man, completely stunned. One of the punk rock gods from my youth was talking to us.
“I live in California now but Chicago…Chicago is where my heart is. It all started here.”
Will & I nodded with stupid grins on our faces.
“I mean, I lost my virginity in Chicago, for Christ’s sake.”
Blag then looked me dead in the eyes & asked me with a goofy smile, “How is your mom, by the way?”
The boys all snicked & sorta their hid “oh no he didn’t” faces behind fingerless gloves & half empty beer bottles. Oh snap.
“She’s great, Blag. Doin’ real good. But she sent me here tonight because she’s tired of paying for all my student loans, by herself. So pay up.” I replied & held out my palm.
Ha. Sometimes…sometimes my mind can whiplash quickly in a sonava bitch situation. Only sometimes.
Blag snapped his fingers with a big smirk & then pointed them at me like a gun & everyone laughed.

We stood up front & shouted the meanest things we could think of during his set. Danny screamed something like, “Way to be that guy who plays all his band’s hits on an acoustic guitar!” We danced around & refused to tip the bartender because of her giant fake tits hanging out, just to get more tips. Singing along & hooting “old fart” during the between song banter.

“Every night is a Saturday night
Every day is a beautiful day
Every night is a Saturday night to me
As I walk down life’s lonely highway
I have a random thought
My only consolation is that I never will get caught”

I didn’t go home until 4 when Will kicked me out, cause he had work at 7. My roommate was still up & I told him the whole story. He doesn’t get punk rock. Doesn’t know the bands or the scene or really much of anything in that realm. Which is fine since he knows more about blues & jazz than I do. He just smiled & humored me as I told him why I felt like such a dork & why being insulted by Blag Dahlia was pretty much, like, a big deal. A bigger deal than when fortune landed me in the Reggie’s green room, back in February, drinking cheap beer with Paul Zamost & discussing why T Rex is just about the best thing ever.

So maybe I felt like 18 year old me again, last night. Maybe I felt like that girl who made cookies for Jeremy “Jaz” Coleman & tripped over her own feet when Dick Lucas tried to give her a hug. But it’s alright. It’s reassuring to know that punk rock still gets to me now, the same way it did when I was a teenager.

The future faces of the Infernites.

It’s a unique experience to see your favorite band play in another city. You don’t know the venue or anyone that works there & it’s pretty unlikely you’ll run into someone you know. Be it an old co-worker or the roommate of an ex. I’ve grown used to pin-balling around the Chicago clubs to say hello to old friends that were seeing the band play shows back when we were all teenagers & hearing random folks shout out, “Hey, it’s Sister Krystle!”
The unfamiliar faces, getting younger & younger as the club fills up, kinda gives you a glimpse into the future of the scene as you tack the years onto your own life. It was really humbling to see so many kids discovering this band at the age that I had & in some cases, even younger. Those kids probably need this band more now, than I do…or maybe ever did.
I struck up conversation with the kids who were hopping up & down & shouting things like, “Ohmygod ohmygod, I am SO excited! This is the first time I’ve ever seen World/Inferno!” out front, while letting everyone bum smokes.
Inside, I passed out hand-fulls of the confetti, that Lara & Kayla had helped me cut up on the car ride, to anyone that would willingly make eye contact with me.
“When do we throw it?” A few kids asked me.
I smiled broadly & told them to just go with their gut.
I had hoped they would remember this night as clearly as I remember my first show. I hoped they’d recall the girl in the green dress, with the big chest tattoo, handing out confetti & giving sips off her beer. Just like I remember the street teams that pasted up show fliers, ran merch tables & made us introductory mix tapes & called them “crucial”. We were there & it actually mattered for that one night. Tabling zines at the shows or promoting our bands by wearing poorly screen printed shirts. Break ups & punch ups & reunions & farewells & pre & post show parties of swilling boxed wine, breaking edges & blood pacts. I want these kids to tell all their friends, the next time W/IFS rolls around, about the night at the Triple Rock when an eight man, drunk punk chorus line evolved into a massive game of Ring Around The Rosie.
I swear to The Great Pumpkin that I’ll never become one of those jerks that say things in my old age like, “I’ve been going to Inferno shows for X amount of years & the scene was so different in those days. You kids shoulda seen them, back then. You have no idea what you were missing out on. Just The Best Party was epic.”
No, sir. I wanna take care of the Inferno scene & continue to tell everyone I meet about them. Share the stories of the in-a-bind-situations & last minute actions taken to get to this one or that one. Chat up the new faces & just be as friendly as possible to the fans of all ages in hopes that the band sticks around & they pass that sentiment on to future Infernites.

“Maybe it meant something. Maybe not, in the long run…but no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there & alive in that corner of time & the world. Whatever it meant…” – HST

Spring Reading List:

[x] Valencia by Michelle Tea
[x] Who Censored Roger Rabbit? by Gary Wolf
[x] The Essential Lenny Bruce compiled & edited by John Cohen
[x] Coyote Satan Amerika: Unspeakable Art & Performances by Reverend Steven Johnson Leyba
[x] Mix Tape: The Art of Cassette Culture edited by Thurston Moore
[x] Voodoo: Search For The Spirit by Laennec Hurbon
[x] Divine Horsemen: The Living Gods Of Haiti by Maya Deren
[x] Cruddy by Linda Barry
[x] Seeing With The Mind’s Eye by Mike Samuels, M.D. & Nancy Samuels

Guerilla puppetry.

Inauguration day 2009 was spent in Chicago’s down town area, asking folks to throw a shoe at George Dubbayu.

Click here to see more photos.

The 25 Second Day Project

For 25 days I will be posting 25 second video clips that summarize what I did that day. You can follow the videos here.

Photo by Marina Makropoulos.

I spent an evening with two good lady friends of mine, talking of taxidermy over pizza & beer. They played dress up with me & we had a little fun with a camera & stuffed deer head while listening to Shel Silverstein. I can never stress enough how much I adore my weirdo friends. We’re a perfect fit.

When the goth kids are not burning down the local Hot Topic…

Sunday at the 1901 Gallery I’ll be running a booth for their goth/punk/rockabilly holiday craft fair. Come on down & see me drinking wassel & being catty. Buy my junk! I want my cell phone to be functional again!

“Stay outta the mall and step into our little black gallery stuffed with a wide variety of unique arts and crafts from over 20 local Artists!
This Sunday from Noon-8pm @ The 1901 Gallery (1901 W Belmont – entrance on Wolcott). You won’t find these one of a kind gifts anywhere else! Spread the love…”

Show ‘em how it’s done, girls.

J, Maren & I dancing as if the plane were going down. Saturday night at The Empty Bottle for O’Death. (photos by Sid Sowder)