If we’d had this BoPA when I worked at Zero-Knowledge, it would have been on everyone’s office windows, like a cool kids’ Dilbert.
I don’t know why, but Jacob and I are completely incapable of arriving rested for an evening with Jimmy Swift.
This time I’m coming in from across the country to arrive mere hours before my next flight departs, and Jacob stayed up late drinking and partying in C-town. Last night is the last time they’re ever going to play Thin Ice, because they don’t plan on teaching the new drummer. It breaks my heart.
Tonight’s set was a rocker, all 45 minutes of it. But it’s OK, because 3 of the other 5 bands were actually really good. I have some new listening to do when I return home, on the off chance that I can even find any such materials recorded in any format anywhere in the world. I gather that some of these bands were hastily assembled from a mixture of people from local bus stops and spare automobile parts just after lunch.
We were both pretty tired — I can certainly vouch for my own state of fatigue, in a volume of prose stretching on to the horizon if necessary — but forces beyond ourselves compelled us to make the most of our Halifax experience through a thorough brand of after-concert partying. I’m kidding, it wasn’t very thorough, as parties go, but it was conversationally superlative.
Seriously, though, I need to sleep at some point. I’m dying.
