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| Art by James Burns |
04/27/13
THWART #1
(Notes)
0. The Rakes End. Cincinnati’s Breighton Neighborhood…Akin to the movie Bladerunner or Chuck Palahniuk’s novel Rant, a neighborhood like this many people would describe as unsafe and criminal. I feel perfectly safe here. Blatant smoking of pot in deep entrances to abandoned buildings strikes me as beautiful.
1. The Flesh Pets With new Drummer. Yes, the rocks have been turned over and thoroughly inspected. A hero is found in the strangest places sometimes.
a. The Eagles with beards? Hotel California? I fell in love with The Flesh Pets due to their gu
itar sound reminding me of The Walkmen intentionally but ultimately bringing to mind X (Aus.) with
“Sister” era Sonic Youth, The Flesh pets were precise. Crafted and a force to be reckoned with. They are the best thing I heard come out of Dayton in a long time… It would take too much brainpo
wer to determine the last good thing to come out of Dayton but it wasn’t Brainiac (I assure you) Chow Pow Socialite? Dirty Socialites? Muzzies? Die Eeyore? Cage?… I dig this band. I think you should too.
b. Power beards in effect. Beautiful wide stance by Rickenbaker bassist will lead me to adda tape measure to my mission-bag for future reference. His stance was at lease 51 inches but that is pure speculation.
2. Brian McCabe (Homemade Drugs) catches the Flesh at Rakes End then explains how he must get across town to see if Steve Shelly (sonic Youth) is playing drums for Dissapearers at MOTR. He promises a blowjob to Shelley if he is in fact behind the drums. “Save your spit,” I tell Brian. “That old fuck wont be there!” Brian returns moments later breaking a cross-town Cincinnati speed record explaining Shelley wasn’t in fact behind the drums in time to catch the amazing Phoul Phill Ant Guill.
3. Phoul Phill Andt Guill
a. Just prior to this show PP&G unveiled not only a great band portrait but also a beautifully crafted modified Proctor & Gamble logo.
b. This band has gotten tight since last I seen them. Formed up to be a group of hard-line contenders. Unique sound that more people than not watched and tried to describe. Like a more touchy feely theatrical Jello Biafra playing with a backing band consisting of Television, Captain Beefheart and Bowie (just to name a few.) You can scream “You Suck!” but the response will be a cleverly place “You Suck MORE!” and you know its true so you just go get a beer and become converted to the PP&G way.
c. I stated that if PP&G didn’t make one person uncomfortable enough to leave the band would have to vote Survivor style and decide who was going to get a caning by Chinanski (my cane) but they fulfilled all requirements so no beating needed. I appreciate this bands uniqueness. I can’t remember when a band like this was seen last time in Cincinnati. If so, al all, it has been YEARS.
4.Swear Jar. Phratry Records recording artist.
b. Setting up their equipment in a way I can only describe as Swear-Real… The Rakes End is not the most ideal place for bands to play… The venues shape is awkward but its still one of the best venues in
Cincinnati right now and ever. Swear Jar made it difficult to say the lease, a difficulty that I could appreciate. “I don’t know where to stand” I said aloud for Shane Chansie to hear. He responded “stand Back” which shut my blabbering mouth and made my nipples hard from embarrassment.
c. “Narcissist Artist” was the first shot but already my boat was already in mode of a glorious sinking with all hands lost. I was asked by someone who I can’t recall to describe their sound and I said it was like The Minutemen combined with Gang of Four… No-Fi Art-punk powered by cynicism and good ol’ fashioned angst. Coming to me about midway thru I grabbed my notebook and jotted down “Feelings are over-rated” and whereas I’m not too sure where exactly that phrase was important enough to mention where/how I came from, it was important enough to write down.
6. The night dissolves into pin-eyes and sit down convos waiting the three-way money split of the band. The odd two dollars out were given to Joe/PP&G for a lap dance. J. Burns of Swear Jar and I decided to form a band called JETPACK and like it or not my cane, Chinanski, has been personalized and answered many questions with a rather foul mouth. Was it alcohol or other illicit substances tat caused immediate devotions to intense games such as Commercials where at the declaration of ”ACTION” you do a television like commercial statement about a product, cause or public service announcement and 1-2-3-4, a came where after a dramatic four count as the type that many bands do the contestant of the game sings a line form any song without music or, in my case, just yelling aloud a sour note at the top of my lungs.
7. Appropriately enough this nights disintegration delves even deeper into admitting a stench of bad flatulence. “”Did you shit your pants?” said my wife to me braking off convos with persons ensuring that they didn’t think she was the one who farted such an intensely bad odor similar to rotting pumpkins. “No!” I responded “I Thwarted!”
April 27th, 2013
...THWART!
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