What good is old timey music without a pistol?


I booked a two day festival during a holiday. Ten bands over two days. Me and my ex were still together at the time we had bbqs both days before the shows. The first night the last band of the night almost set the place on fire from setting parts of the drum kit on fire. It burned out quick and none of the building caught fire. The first night went pretty smoothly, at this point we were getting ten percent of the bar supposedly if it made over $1000, but honestly if it was near that number we did. I always paid it out to the bands. As far as others I don’t know.

Most of the wrecking crew was there, it was a group of me and my friends at the time. Most were in n.a trying to get clean. Most didn’t, one or two ended up trying to join a nazi group even though at the time I had no idea they had that leaning. If I did, or what some of them were capable of I would have never stuck around. They kept it quiet.

Angel was part of it to, a one handed stripper not originally from this area. May she rest in peace. Before she died she was beat by a member of the crew that she was dating and this was kept quiet. I am not a violent fucker usually but for this waste of flesh it is swing on site. She moved back to where she was from and overdosed as far as I have heard. I remember shorty after she got the word dork tattooed across her one set of knuckles.

Back to the story. The second night of the festival some scrawny ginger cocksucker who had a dog named criminal if that tells you anything got booted from the show. Someone followed him home from what I have heard. The dumb shit went into his house grabbed a pistol, walked the guy back at gunpoint and held four people hostage outside the venue, to the side near the back.

There was at least one person inside that had a pistol, but they did not go out even when Mike asked for it to take care of business.

Luckily no one was shot, no one died. I hear that ginger fuck went into the city the next day and got his ass handed to him.

The alcohol wasn’t the problem that night, just one dumbass with too few brain cells to recognise basic shapes.

We had a lot of bands from a neighboring state including brand new ones. The unnamed uncle I have talked about before was there with his country band. They blew me away. That night I got a cd that had no music on it from them. I am still trying to track down that halfmoon highway.

It wasn’t the normal crowd but enough usual’s were around to keep the inside safe.

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Why pay $30.00 when you don’t have to?

   It was a jam night. Me and the woman I consider a sister were there with me. The part of a gospel family I mentioned before was there and ran the jam nights. The music was great, it was already like getting to see an all star show for free.You never knew who was going to come in, but it was usually someone local and unknown. Te bar was pretty damn empty, I guess that is what makes this night a little more special.

 

   There is this woman that I have never seen before or since  with a guy to dressed up to be walking into this place. Next thing I know word gets around that she used to sing with Bob Seger’s band. He is a chump compared to her. Someone talked her into signing something. They hit the stage. Me and my sister were at the closest table to the cutout, if I remember right we actually moved it closer. Had beers in hands, then we hear a voice so powerful and beautiful it can bring someone to tears. I know her tickets were going for around $30.00 a pop a few years back. I am guessing they are still that expensive.

 

This is the brighter side of those old days

look at all those cocks

   At some points we all wish we could go back to the old days. We know how to act, what to expect even if it was the unexpected. I do not wish to go back I am fine knowing those days can never and will never be repeated.

 

   This is one of those kind of situations. A band was changing in the back room of the bar which at this point was also uncle Donnie’s bedroom. I had no knowledge of the band and am not the one that booked them. The singer comes out in a bike helmet with a dildo mohawk, elbow pads and knee pads with dildos hanging off them, holding an electric bull horn that had a loud siren sound, and a large codpeice. The rest of the band was wearing baby masks and diapers. This was my introduction to shat. The music was fast and brutal sounding, each song under a minute long, each more sexual than the last. The place was pretty packed but the area in front of the cut out was pretty empty. The singer announced that they were playing a song called show me your tits, he had a flashlight in his hand. The only person to flash them was a friend of mine, a slim black man. Come to find out those are not the kind of tits they were talking about. I couldn’t stop laughing.

 

   I was in some kind of alcohol fueled state. By now that should be no surprise. Uncle Donnie was standing somewhere further back with his arm at the bar with a look on his face like I have seen it all but never this. He was a veteran so that is saying something.

 

   If I remember right they were stuck with a spot somewhere in the middle of the show, like most first timers were.

 

   The usual suspects were around for the most part. Some were missing as far as I remember. For some reason shat never played there again, I do not know if they have broke up or not. I don’t think any women talked to them that night besides the one that they stayed with for a night and they supposedly stuck some coke from.

hello fucker, goodbye fucker

   There was somebody playing at one of the two pool tables by the bathrooms, front door, and door to the back room. He was hustling for drinks like he did everytime he was there. It was kind of a right of passage, if you played lost and got him some drinks you would gain a certain level of respect.

 

   This story is not about him, but about someone that actually lived in the bar and called it his home. He slept in the back room and was a janitor as a form of paying his rent. Always wearing a red hat, drinking vodka out of a plastic glass, Didn’t always smile but his would light up a room. I called him uncle Donnie. This is basically background about him. He was a fixture after a certain point, I can’t remember exactly when. He was until the day he died. Cheerful enough, easy going, but also in pain and it showed even if he didn’t want it to.

 

   I only saw him sing once, it was to an afroman song when he was doing something behind the bar. Before that he told me he doesn’t sing.

 

   I will just put a bunch of stories in this one, because they are to short to do individually.

 

   There was a night where he was passed out on the couch he called his bed. Me and the guy I booked shows with turned his couch around so it faced the wall, we gave it some space though. We left. He got up to take a piss and walked into the wall. When me and the other booker walked in I saw uncle Donnie looking at us, and yelling the word fucker, fucker one and fucker two. It was followed by a smile. As of that day we were both called fucker.

 

   There was another night when some people were being loud and doing some stupid shit. I walk up to the bar and cop a lean next to Donnie. Without missing a beat he said Welcome to our nightly services. How can I help you my son?”. Had me laughing and caught me off guard.

 

   I never knew he was a veteran, but then again I do not think he really told anyone.

 

   Here is the part that still gets me. I was gone for a while, it is after I stepped away. He got an infection, gave away his antibiotics, and died. That is what I have been told.Honestly he is part of why I am writing all this shit.

 

There will be plenty of stories he is part of or was around during.

who the fuck are these assholes and why are they here?

   Here is one of the many Stories involving Mike. There are going to be two Mikes in this story, one alive, one dead, so I am going to call the Dead one Coddington like I did when he was alive since it is his last name.

 

   I had no idea Mike was a drummer, or was in a band like the queers but only better in my opinion. Songs like “I have tourettes”, “tits”, “don’t kill me” still make me laugh. I forget exactly how they got booked or who else was on the show that night because they stole the show. I had never seen them before. This is before the day where that asshole Coddington gave me a tape that had the band name wrote on it but was blank, which I am sure the lovable cocksucker laughed about later.

 

   To see them live Was a treat. Coddington scooting his ass across the floor while singing my ass is on fire. The love you could tell was there strong. The lyrics, the drums. Mike told me a story about how he got snuck out of a hospital with an iv attached played a show on drums and snuck back in which knowing the crazy bastard like I do I never question for a second.

 

   You may have seen party bands before but you haven’t seen one like this. Their name was the idiots and the name fit all to well. Hard drinking, some of them anyway, hard smoking pot heads. Each show of theirs was like a party, and this was my introduction. Think trailer park boys the band and you might start to have some semblance of a clue.

holyshit, dance with me

This night I do not clearly remember. I was standing guard outside for a reason I can not tell you now accurately, I was partially bouncer at the time with a lot of other shit. That night I was out back though in the parking lot by the door. When a woman I consider an aunt even if I have not seen her in years. She ran out of the door trying to find me to come inside. I thought there was some kind of trouble, when I came in I saw her husband holding an acoustic guitar which I never remember seeing him hold before that night. He dedicated a song to me which was a cover of unknown hinson which he knows I love called foggy windows which is a song about stalking which I don’t do but the song is awesome but hilarious to me. Once the song started my aunt asked me to dance which I do not do with anyone and I said yes. We slow danced to a song that I cannot emphasize enough which is about stalking.

I wish I could tell you a lot more, or say my uncle sounded like an angel which he never has. I can tell you that moment sticks out, they may have not fit on the bill. I was used to Raven doing vocals to songs based on horror movies , but that moment alone changed me. They never fit the bill honestly, but they did at the same time. Same cloth similar mindset, and so much more. I love them both to this day. I do not remember what happened that night before or after on that date. I can’t remember the year even but I think that is how it goes with important moments.

I know there were harder bands on the bill. I know I was drinking heavy, that was normal, I know it was an amazing time. I wish there was a recording of him covering that song as well. It is something I will never do again.

welcome to fucktown

   The woman I mentioned before that still looks under age was turning 21or 22 if I remember right. We decided to throw a birthday show for her. This is back in the days where everyone was using myspace. It was one of the ways I found bands to book, when I did it this time I had no idea what we were getting into. There was a band from Howell called the petafylers, I had no idea who they were and knew they were based about an hour away. They agreed to come out to play. I have heard from them that they didn’t think it was a good fit when they got there but by the time they were done playing they were proven wrong. Think if gg allin was more well adjusted. The band was a collection of scumbags, but also a pedophile watch group. I do not remember who else played that night, if you did and are reading this I am not trying to slight you at all. It is just a defining moment that changed things.

 

Those ugly, drunk, drug addled, borderline insane fucks became family quick. I have seen them live at least 30 times. As of that night they basically became the house band. They played there at least once a week. They actually played two sets that night. The singer at the time always looked like he was ready attack and could possible die any second. The guitar player would slit your throat or buy you a beer, already a three time felon by that point, the drummer had an anger problem but you knew where you stood or at the very least thought you did. And the bass player was his own beast completely, didn’t fit with the rest but did all to well.

 

I could go on about all the guys but I want to bring up someone that came with them. I do not use real names unless they are dead and unfortunately I am using this magnificent assholes real name, Mikey Doran.  Me and the guy that was booking with me called him the spud eating mic. He made a huge impact just like all of them did in their own ways. You knew what he meant always but he would fuck with you every chance he got, at least me anyway I am not putting my experience on the ones that knew him longer and better. He knew life was to short. Living on borrowed time always like we all are but he knew it better than most of us do. I could go on about this cocksucker for days but knowing him was something special. If you did not know him I do not want you to feel like you do, will, or ever could.

 

Back to the shit you might actually care about. The music was loud, ugly, raw, and made me laugh like a non functioning retard stuck in a fully manic state. Fuck, when did I start reviewing music again, like a advocate for the scumbag lifestyle. The music is hard to find and the times can not be duplicated. I know my life changed that night, I think my sister, the woman I mentioned did as well for better and worse depending on time period.

 

Songs like old enough to pee old enough for me, shake your baby, don’t steal from the dead, heroin blues filled the air attacked the sense and got the blood pumping probably quicker than it should be like audio cocaine.

 

This is going to be the last of the stories in order, I can not remember when the rest happened.