What comrades are talking about right now:
I’ve had a long-running conversation/debate with a bunch of my mates…if you had to spend one night with a man (not that there’s anything wrong with that), which man would it be? Well, I can now unequivocally say that Jim James is my man…that’s how good the My Morning Jacket show was.
The Violent Femmes kicked it like they weren’t 800 years old (c’mon, if you combine their ages it’s close) and did their thing in fine style. They broke out most of the old favorites and gently rocked me to sleep beneath the glittering Chicago skyline. Ahhhhhhhhh…
And at the end of the night, Ben Gibbard didn’t even mind my obscenities…he’s a real stand-up guy.
If you think you’re too cool for school, or just too cool for Lollapalooza, then just stop reading (Joie).
The first day of Perry Farrell’s orgasmic musical extravaganza is nearly upon me. What am I to do? How am I to proceed? Here’s how:
After arising at half-past a monkey’s ass (monkeys, Joie!!), I plan on cruising into the Aqualung show fashionably late and after that it’s on like Dave’s Mom…
2:30 - eels
3:30 - Stars
4:30 - Ryan Adams (he’s so hot right now…)
5:30 - Iron & Wine vs. The Secret Machines (two acts so different it’s like a cook-off between a field mouse and a whippit dealer)
6:30 - My Morning Jacket (I just relieved the local Jewel store of their entire stock of adult diapers…I’m *that* convinced (love you, Dave) that I’ll piss myself during this show)
7:30 - Violent-Femmes
8:30 - Death Cab (I’ll be in the front row cursing Ben Gibbard’s name…)
And that’s that. If you don’t like my choices, leave me a scathing comment…or just cram it up your cramhole.