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stage, pacific northwest, chow, cinema, bc independant media, venues, fucking free, t shirt hell, sauna, lampoon, metrotimes, message, thestranger, e cards, stranger, pathetic geek stories, regional internet registry, piercings, larry david, kosovo,
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When I saw Grand Funk I didn’t regain my equilibrium or lose the ringing in my ears for a full 24 hours after they left the stage; merchandising I had never heard anything that loud in my entire life. Now, after all merchandising the slush merchandising in the press about Warner Brothers executives packing special earplugs at all times in the event of having to attend a Black Sabbath show in the line of duty, I couldn’t believe this spate of whispery feedback and conversational vocals—I was pissed! Oh, they played all right, but hell, I used to go every chance I got to see The Stooges in their decline, when every song was the identical wall of noise and you couldn’t tell one note from the next; I don’t care if he gets the fucking solo exactly like it was on the album! Since the original scam on this story was that it was going to be a graphic tragic survey of the littered battlefield of the contemporary concert, with pitiful panoramas of passed-out pubes and other alliterative gimmicks, most of us from CREEM prepared ourselves for this harrowing experience by consuming a down
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