May 23rd, 2004.

Wow, so not writing ANYTHING right now – exhausted and near to death, plus my computer puts out far too much heat to leave it running at the moment.

Right at the beginning of the day - after fighting our way through Metro and lines and crowds and the WORLD, we managed to get pretty close for Cypress Hill - I've seen them once before, paired up with Rage Against the Machine - and though the bass wasn't quite as fierce here - it still twitched my clothes arround and exerted physical pressure on my skull. It was really close, probably 95+ degrees, and insanely humid from all the bodies, and as usual, I ended up right on the edge of a mosh pit. I don't know how they ALWAYS find me, or why they form around me (do I just inspire strange half-naked male aggression?) but, also as usual, eventually two of the guys got into a fight over broken sunglasses ("You fucking owe my FIVE DOLLARS!!") and I ended up getting clubbed in the RIGHT shoulder... you know... the one that was ok. So now BOTH shoulders hurt. Sigh. — Right at the beginning of the day – after fighting our way through Metro and lines and crowds and the WORLD, we managed to get pretty close for Cypress Hill – I’ve seen them once before, paired up with Rage Against the Machine – and though the bass wasn’t quite as fierce here – it still twitched my clothes arround and exerted physical pressure on my skull. It was really close, probably 95+ degrees, and insanely humid from all the bodies, and as usual, I ended up right on the edge of a mosh pit. I don’t know how they ALWAYS find me, or why they form around me (do I just inspire strange half-naked male aggression?) but, also as usual, eventually two of the guys got into a fight over broken sunglasses (“You fucking owe me FIVE DOLLARS!!”) and I ended up getting clubbed in the RIGHT shoulder… you know… the one that was ok. So now BOTH shoulders hurt. Sigh.

Notes for what I WILL write though:

Worst seats in the house, getting there, getting Shane, getting Mitzi, missing Amy… hrm, what else? Jah Works vs the Goths, Jimmie’s Chicken Shack vs the festival, me vs the heat and man vs man during Cypress Hill… Missing the Violent Femmes, not missing the Offspring, and feeling guilty about not missing the eye candy. The Cure and the pain and the best damned hot dog I’ve ever had… but not really.

But for now, I’ve got a bed at Gwen’s house, and I’m grateful for that, because the subway was Hell, and it’s been quite a day. I’m hoping Heather’s gig went okay… thinking about that, thinking about practice, but mostly – thinking about sleep.

Note to self: somewhere along the line, Jimmie Haha became one of the most inspirational people I’ve ever seen. One of the best shows that there ever could be.

After Cypress Hill, we tried to go find Shane, who was up in the nosebleed section. Between the deadly power of the mosh pit, the deadly power of the sun, the awesome nasty slurpiness of the moisture in the air, and the billion ramps it took to climb up to where Shane was, I got kind of sick, and we missed the first half of the Violent Femmes.... sigh. But they were awesome, even from way up here - and I was amazed to look around during "Add it Up" and realize that this song was older than many of the kids around me - and the whole stadium knew the words. — After Cypress Hill, we tried to go find Shane, who was up in the nosebleed section. Between the deadly power of the mosh pit, the deadly power of the sun, the awesome nasty slurpiness of the moisture in the air, and the billion ramps it took to climb up to where Shane was, I got kind of sick, and we missed the first half of the Violent Femmes…. sigh. But they were awesome, even from way up here – and I was amazed to look around during “Add it Up” and realize that this song was older than many of the kids around me – and the whole stadium knew the words.

Shane came down from Philadelphia and was... a bit overwhelmed by the event. We crashed on a hill for the two hours to pass in which all the bands sucked. Unfortunately, Modest Mouse and the Violent Femmes were playing at the same time... adding to his pensiveness. — Shane came down from Philadelphia and was… a bit overwhelmed by the event. We crashed on a hill for the two hours to pass in which all the bands sucked. Unfortunately, Modest Mouse and the Violent Femmes were playing at the same time… adding to his pensiveness.

Jimmie's Chicken Shack turned down their slot on the big National Stage, and instead closed out the Local's Stage, and played till they were cut off. — Jimmie’s Chicken Shack turned down their slot on the big National Stage, and instead closed out the Local’s Stage, and played till they were cut off.

Later that day…
The sun rose, but I’m thankful to the Gwen house for having big, thick, mighty blinds that left me in darkness till late in the morning.

I think that the main thing I wish I could capture yesterday, was the performance by Jimmie’s Chicken Shack that closed out the local stage – I wish I had a recording, or a perfect memory – anything other than a bunch of blurred and distant photographs.

Poor Mitzi. I made her sit through the Offspring. They didn't play my song... sigh. Much older than I expected - they're like... 40... — Poor Mitzi. I made her sit through the Offspring. They didn’t play my song… sigh. Much older than I expected – they’re like… 40…

So, I first encountered the Chicken Shack on a friend’s wall in high school. She’d been following them around, creating a pretty awesome portfolio based on their Live shows… I didn’t get a chance to check them out until they were paired up with the Violent Femmes at Johns Hopkins University.

They stood out as one of the most energetic bands I’d ever seen – and it seems so strange that that was almost nine years – and here is Jimmie, nearly a decade older – and controlling the stage masterfully, doing funny dances, leaping and singing his heart out.

And bitter. That’s definately one of the things I remember from the Annapolis scene – in the wake of Good Charlotte getting signed and Jimmie’s Chicken Shack getting signed but getting screwed – it seems that all of the musicians have this bitter streak towards big business – I wonder if there are cities like that scattered all over the world – where acts have been plucked from their homes, and the rest of the scene is left standing still and wondering what the FUCK they’ve been working for all of these years.

The Cure, of course, had the coolest light show, and Mitzi really wanted to be up close for them. Robert Smith just sort of stood there, but his bass player thought he was in a punk band.

So, Jimmie had a lot to say yesterday, and I was amazed by how he said it. He talked about how the easiest way to get an audience to yell was to mention pot… he talked about how a lot of us had probably thought that they had broken up… and he talked about how they weren’t going to stop till they were unplugged – not just today, but forever.

My spine was tingling through the whole show. He talked about how they’d had the opportunity to play the big, national stage – and how he’d been trying to escape his label for three years, and he was almost there, and that’s why he was there on the LOCAL stage, because he was LOCAL music. He had the audience screaming back “What’s this band’s name?!?” “JIMMIE’S CHICKEN SHACK” “Are we LOCAL?” “HELL YEAH!!!”

I’d never really thought of them as STANDING for something – but they took on the mantle of Fugazi yesterday, even playing “Waiting Room” (“We’ve been taking the stage for 11 years, and we’ve never played a cover… so here’s a LOCAL cover”)

Clean up must be horrible for this thing. At around 11.30 or so, everyone was walking slowly, exhausted, and calling their mom to come get them.

And they came to stand for the same thing – small business, grassroot power, local music… he had the singers from all the other local bands coming up in the middle of one of “School Bus” – he finished with his part of it, handed his guitar off, and jumped over security and into the crowd…. and then the next guy came up, free-styled, handed off the mic and jumped into the crowd – it must’ve been about four different musicians, one after the other, lemming-like – and I would kill to be doing that.

Their performance alone made the day worthwhile. I’m excited to hear the new album (Alfred did the artwork), because it doesn’t sound like the crap they put out under their label labour – if you haven’t heard it, go find a copy of Pushing the Salmonella Envelope. One of the best albums ever recorded.