There is a bottle of Advil sitting on the kitchen counter back at my house. I’m thinking really hard about that bottle right now. I have one of those headaches that makes me think God is punishing me for being an asshole. I would like to find a construction site somewhere and lay my head down on the asphalt and run over it with a steamroller so that my skull squishes like a cherry tomato and all the bad stuff comes running out. I didn’t even drink last night, so fuck you, God, you spiteful little twerp.
Last night I did sound for the Divorce Records showcase featuring Secret Colours, Husband and Knife, Dead Wife, Grand Trine and Nadja. Secret Colours were the pleasant surprise of the night for me… I found some of the songs surprisingly pretty and poppy underneath the swirly washes of ambient sound. From there the night became progressively noisier, I loved Husband and Knife, Dead Wife and Grand Trine were chaotic and punk as fuck, and Nadja closed off the night with their deep doomy soundscapes. There was a vinyl giveaway and I came away with a free test pressing of the new Dog Day record courtesy of our good friends at DIVORCE RECORDS.
When I got off work I went to an afterparty at the Rock Garden and ate a bunch of pizza. Here is a picture of me and James Reid going ham on some Hawaiian slices.
DJ services were provided by Graham from Holy Fuck and last night’s Paragon headliner Cadence Weapon. I enjoyed talking to a few friends but I wasn’t really all about tearing it up on the dance floor. I’ve had this mindset where I’m in Halifax to work and I can have my fun when the shows are over. I’ve been invited to perform at Saturday’s afterparty, and more details are sure to follow somewhere on this Internet.
I bailed on the afterparty when Prince came on the sound system. I’m not dissing Prince but I have a rule that when the ’80s music comes on, it’s time to get the hell out of the party. Unless it’s Italo-Disco. Or Acid House. Or DAF, or Front 242. Or Devo. Or the B-52s. On second thought I am dissing Prince after all.
I’m wearing a Moneen hoodie that Dish lent me and someone told me it smells like my house in the country but to me it smells like cigarette smoke. Today at 2pm I made myself some breakfast consisting of vile spaghetti in a disgusting mushroom sauce. The crew had all gone out to eat at the Spartan and I ate by myself in silence while wishing I had gone with them.
Tonight I will be at Coconut Grove doing sound for some East Coast boy-bands. Soundcheck is in three hours and right now I am about to go have a nap in my car.