christ666's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- My Sexy Assassin I didn't make it to the gym on Friday, mostly out of the exhaustion and soreness from the previous lifting session, so I set my alarm for early morning on Saturday so that I could get a workout in before heading to Boise for D&D. After my phone woke me up and I slowly made my way to the bathroom, I found I hurt even worse. But, I wasn't going to skip out again. My mother graciously bought a year's membership for me after I mentioned wanting to get back into working out, so I'm trying to be as proactive as I can about it, to offset the guilt and make sure the money doesn't go down the toilet. More cardio, different weights, same end result. Much, much hurt. I drove out to Boise, grabbed something to eat and some naproxen from the store to help my agonizing muscles, then spent a few hours RPGing at Morgan's house. I kept wondering how the show was going to go with all the pain going on, and hoped that they had enough booze and weed to get me through it. Unfortunately, I only brought a bowl's worth to smoke at Morgan's, so any ganj imbibing would have to be at the behest of other people's kindness. About 3:30, Sean (fellow d&der, MSA guitarist, and possible Kort replacement for Mortal) and I headed to Eric's house to run through the set a couple times and get things arranged for the house show. We kinda pushed through the songs without Charlie at first, making it through more or less on the same page. Then Charles finally showed, and we ran through the set again, sounding pretty on point. A couple spots I was a little shoddy, but again, having only spent 4 nights learning all the songs, I feel I did all right. We cleared space and rearranged some gear, making a pretty nice little showroom in Eric's basement. By 6:00, I was hungry as fuck and offered to pick up some Piehole for Eric and myself. His house is only like seven blocks away, so I figured I'd walk, not paying any mind to the clouds that have ninja'd their way over town. A light drizzle starts coming down, and I shrug it off, thinking it's nothing I can't deal with. Then it starts to pour, and I start to walk a little faster. I'm only in my gym shorts and my Star Trek sweater, so it doesn't take long for my clothes to get soaked. Finally, I feel little stings all over the back of my calves when hail finally starts to fall. I make it there, order some slices, and then brave the storm for the journey home. As I'm walking back to the house, Eric, Sean, and Mike from Hummingbird of Death are walking out to his car to grab his band's gear. Eric and Sean notice my condition and start laughing, both were discussing how bad the storm was earlier, wondering if I took my car. The pizza was worth it. Eric paid me back in weed. Hummingbird sets up their merch, and I'm complete admiration. Obviously, they have the usual: T shirts, CD's, stickers, patches. They also had packaged vinyl, full LP's, 7" records, splits with other bands, as well as a micro CD, and a cassette. I always thought it'd be thrash as fuck to release an EP on cassette. My Sexy Assassin sets up a few of their shirts as well, and their cd, though by the end of the night, I don't think they sold any. As attendance builds, and the house starts to fill, the show starts. The first band was a (mostly?) two piece hardcore punk group named Dunce. The drummer was a tall, lanky kid wearing a cowboy hat and camo pants, with bright red converse sneakers and played beats that were a bit out of his league, while the guitarist, wearing a hoodie and jeans, sometimes struggled to remember the riffs. Occasionally, a kid with red and blue hair would scream lyrics into a microphone, but most of the time stood to the side. It wasn't great. But, I guess that's kinda punk in itself to some regard, yeah? Or is it rather the underground house scene is usually correlated with poor performance nostalgia, and we inappropriately attribute it to punk? The crowd likes it enough, though it seems a lot of them are friends and friends of friends, so I don't spot more than a handful of punkers or heshers. Of course, I didn't expect to see many metalish fans as this was more of a hardcore and grindcore show. To keep in spirit of the house, I'm downing beers like I used to before I started smoking weed and losing weight. Usually, I have one or two and I'm good. But tonight, I felt like keeping up with the musicians and fans around me, so as soon as I'm down with a bottle, I grab another. Sometimes, someone would offer a pull of some bourbon or whiskey, and I didn't hesitate. I chatted with a lot of people I've never met, bullshitting with strangers and talking about old influences. Also laughed a shit ton with Sean reminiscing about the afterparty for the Sickness festival in Portland, when Mortal and MSA hung out with some of the other bands and promoters of the gig at some stranger's house and got pretty fucked up through the late hours, until Mortal finally bounced at sunrise, while Eric and the MSA boys passed out in Sean's car, with Eric's legs hanging out of the open passenger door. I actually shared with Sean about how nervous I was, something that I hadn't experienced with Mortal for a long time. Maybe because it was a completely different environment than I'm used to, playing music I'm unfamiliar with, but it was exciting to feel like a newbie again. Hummingbird went on, and they fucking killed. It seems like they've been an interesting part of the Boise music scene for about ten years now, so it was cool to see them in that kind of underground environment and watch them jam. Lots of people were into it, and it made me excited to close the night out. Got to tuning, got things wired up, Charlie gets behind the kit, and I thumb some stuff on the bass. We jam out a funky beat while people filter into the basement. One of the unexpectedly fun things that's developed from these jams is me and Charlie improvising a bass/drum jam, and it kinda not only helps us bond, but gets us on the same page musically. Once everybody's in, Charlie kicks it off and Eric and Sean start shredding on guitars. The set was tight. Only a couple slight fuck ups on my part, but overall it was great. A couple of times, I'd be into it, and I'd sorta glance over at Charlie, and he'd be smiling at my playing, like he was glad I was getting it down. It felt very gratifying to be living up to the guys' standards and helping them add another layer to their music, so it wasn't hard to really get into and headbang with the guys. it reminded me of when I first started playing with Mortal in it's early stages. It's truly an ego-inflating experience when you feel like you're good enough to be with these other great musicians, and last night was no exception. After we finish, I actually get more compliments than I had with Mortal Ashes. I don't know if the kind of people there are more prone to voicing they're praises than the typical metal shows I've done, or if I've never impressed anyone with my guitar shit, but either way it was just icing on the cake for a pretty satisfactory night. People eventually trickled out, while a core ten of us stuck around and finished off some booze and bowls. I actually got to talk with a couple people who know Brett and Chadwick, and I got to share some high school stories that they never got to hear about. Small world. Sometimes shows are great, and sometimes they're terribly bland. A handful can be unexpected, and I think this was one of those times. I hadn't anticipated a big turnout, but the house filled and I ended up having more fun than I thought. It's nights like those that make me proud and happy I'm a musician. 6:58 p.m. - 2016-03-13 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||