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| journal, hbo home video, contemporary singer/songwriter, wordssong lyrics 2pac hit 'em up greatest hits, movie quotes, words, columns, queen, t shirt, political, buy, 2003, legends of rock, hip hop, brewster, cheryl hines, phrases, north by northeast, mgm (video & dvd), ontario, sports, should, | Now there we were, practically (or so it seemed to me) the only barbiturate reprobates in sight for miles. Ever alert for lurid detail, CREEMer Jaan Uhelszki reported to me that someone tried to sell her a pill called Carbotrol in the bathroom, and stand up ny that at one point she saw a girl puking. One miserable stand up ny fucking puke! Also, marijuana was legal in Michigan now and for about the next three weeks, due to a high state court ruling stand up ny that since the possession law was about to convert to a misdemeanor the old one would be unenforceable in the meantime, so everybody can smoke themselves silly wherever they want with no fears greater than emphysema. Journalistic dynamite! I expected people to be walking around casual as dons puffing languidly on joints just like they was cigarettes, never even removing the things from their mouths, or maybe indulging in mass orgiastic smoke-frenzies such as prophesied by John Sinclair and Jerry Rubin, but damned if I didn’t see nary a public toke all evening. |
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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; I had never heard anything that brewster loud in my entire life. Now, after all the slush 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 brewster feedback and conversational brewster 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 or two ourselves. |
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