It was so hot, we actually went to a club for beer more than we went for music. We didn’t care who was playing. When the sounds displeased our ears, we didn’t walk out in disgust. When the band tried to strike up a conversation afterwards, we forced ourself to be gracious and polite. We simply didn’t want to leave our barstool and walk out into that hot sun again.
This is what the 33-and-a-third circle of Hell feels like. Trapped in a bar with a shitty band, knowing what you’re missing elsewhere, but not wanting to melt.

Basin Bulletin and The Lure of High Places at The Bullfinch. Both bands travelled here from greener, cooler climes. Try to drag yourselves out to support them… Slow Motion Landslide and Spring Sweetness at Hamilton’s, where the hard lemonade specials are really the main draw… Begrudging gratitude to D’ollaire’s for booking Fossilized Dung, the band that refuses to live up to its name. The last album tanked, so this is a painful rebuilding process for FD, and it’s nice that D’ollaire’s didn’t give them shit about it…