Monday, June 16, 2008

6/16/08 Ev-ry-bo-dy-seems-to-naaag...me.

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6/16/08

Good Monday morning to you. Watch this - it is the best way to start your day.

Monday morning doesn't feel so bad now, does it?
I am in love with Stevie Wright of the Easybeats. It's really quite serious. Oh but hey, here's some stuff going on tonight.

Constantines with Red Pens and The Millionth Word @ 7th Street Entry, 10/12 bucks, 8:00.
Jazz Implosion @ the Turf Club, 5 bucks, 9:30.
Roe Family Singers @ 331 Club, zero bucks, 9:00. Plus, $2.50 gin and vodka tonics. They're not strong, but that's still awfully cheap.
Punk Rock Bowling with Tough Tough Skin ,The Knotwells, Kitten Forever and This Again @ Memory Lanes, 10 bucks (includes unlimited bowling and shoes), 10:00.

I have this problem. I've had this problem since I was very young. I fall in love with pop singers of the 1960s. Well, with their younger selves, and it all started with Davy Jones; I was six, he was forty-one. I was in love with his younger self, you know, from the television program. The twenty-year-old version of Davy Jones. Close in age to me, sure, yet still illegal and inappropriate.

I still suffer from delusions that allow me to believe these pop singers still walk the earth as their single, twenty-year-old selves and still front really awesome pop bands when, in fact, most of them are unavailable (married, children), are no longer fronting really awesome pop bands (touring the outdoor festival circuit doesn't count), no longer resemble their young, handsome selves (bear witness to another of my disappointments by viewing photographs of Gary Brooker then and now), are dead (Tim Buckley) or should be. Note that Stevie Wright underwent the controversial Deep Sleep Therapy to overcome drug and alcohol dependency issues, but it only served to make him really, really crazy. Note also that that link will take you to the Church of Scientology and so the information is not to be believed. Note now that nowadays Stevie Wright looks like this. Hm.

Now, for a serious mindfuck; you realize just how young they were in that film footage that makes you pine for them. Stevie, around nineteen. Alex Chilton? Seventeen.

In case you wonder whether he's so energetic in all his performances, view this (because it's worth a second listen on a Monday morning) and the answer will become apparent. I LOVE HIM.

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