Thursday night at the Triple Rock. The Shadow Government are in town from Chicago and bless us all with 14 drummers, 8 ambient noise dudes, Bias-Dog on bass, and our old friend Joel (aka Andy Koufax) on guitar. Okay maybe that's an exaggeration but there were seriously a lot of dudes on the stage.
Everybody wants a big bazooka.
Cam and JC -- the Cameron Killers hold down the south side bar of the 3Rock.
Jeff whispers sweet nothings into Joel's ear that frighten and confuse him.
I finally get to access my studio again! For the last month I haven't had any keys as Jeff lost them and wasn't quick about replacing them for me.
Snapshots 1 -- breakfast at the Bandbox. This motley crew runs the joint -- Lukeklye, Lukerrandall, Adam, and Gretchen (aka Slayer). The food is delicious and the odds are that one of them will be drunk or high when they serve it to you. Bonus!
Lukekyle shows us the brand new cash register. They have programmed it to say "Fuck Todd." Not "Have a Nice Day" or "Thanks for Your Business." Nope. "Fuck Todd" is what they went with. Nice choice, friends.
CC Club with Colezoes and JV Squad. JV refuses to contribute to the blog.
Afterbar at Jawsdog's porch. A lot of people in circle. It was almost like a rap cypher but without the rapping or hip-hop beats and with more discussion of "crazy shit I saw on YouTube this morning," and recaps of lost.
Jawsdog explains her extraction tool.
Crazy shit hanging from the porch ceiling.
The party thins out and moves to the front porch. That's the thing about Minneapolis. You can't throw a rock without hitting a porch and some people sitting in it. BTW - McTubbins gets mad hyphey.
Tired drunk shot #1. Jeff passes out in his chair -- too much vodka, not enough sleep, or so he says.
Flash forward to Saturday. Jawsdog takes us to a keg party in a sleepy part of St. Paul. It's being thrown by two dudes she grew up with in Dixon, Illinois who have loud voices, a love of pop-punk, and hearts of gold. 50's Dad gives the thumbs up to our new friends and their hospitality. BTW when we arrived these 2 bros had spent all day drinking warm keg beer waiting for people to come to their party. We were the first and last to arrive.
Down in the basement of the keg house a secret spot for "jam sessions" is revealed. They show us their banner which covers and protects the drumset from dust.
Snapshots 2 -- preparation for the jam sesh. Brenda is not into this.
Iceberg in full effect, beard and all. The night goes late, the fire burns hot, the beers run wild, our hearts are pure.
Jawsdog on a couch made of the finest egyptian satin. Or velvet.
Porches are well represented this weekend.
Brenda parties with stealth.
WTF? Who smokes pipes? The dudes who live at this house apparently. 50's, McTubbins, and Jeff investiages the pros and cons of this ancient ritual. The results are mixed.
Keg cups, pipe tobacco, and drum sticks. It's safe to say that this shit is about as real as it gets. It was a gathering Now it's a party.
Not sure what happened here.
Snapshots 3 -- The time was right. The stars aligned. We had waited long enough. A full-on raging "jam sesh" broke out. Playlist: Metallica's "Nothing Else Matters," Metallica's "Enter Sandman," Stone Temple Pilot's "Plush."
Yes, all of these pedals are necessary. Especially the phaser. Kudos to the dudes who live at this house for keeping Boss pedals afloat single-handed in recent years.
Tsunami is a party cat who has a total crush on Tubbs.
While McTubbins sleeps, we steal his infamous glasses to learn what its like to have your face framed by 10,000 pounds of hexagon. Interestingly, it's a lot like the picture on the bottom right.
