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The set-up was primitive but a big improvement over
the last time I played records at Steve's. A used mixer from Heavy, a new
Stanton STR8-50 turntable, and a slide projector borrowed from Andi playing
old pix against an
adbusters
flag hung in the window like a 2-sided screen. The mix ran from ska to
nigerian funk to old new wave to reggae to ac/dc and
mdc.
I took it down with some
t-rex,
"life's a gas," and rick leaned against the wall listening as i sang
along--no, it really doesn't matter at all... when the song was over
he said, "rip it up, rob," and tripped over the phono cord, hurling my old
onkyo to the floor. i
 underreacted
but it was an effort and it got me thinking, "who gives a fuck? it's just
stuff"--but i know i still have a lot of stupid feelings in me. after a little
coaxing and tlc, the platten got spinning again, miraculously. i watched
smoke from incense dance in the colored slidelight, and lee, steve, and i
mellowed out at 3 a.m. to indian ragas and tablas underlaid with
lenny
bruce, whose rants sounded like chants because he was a holy
man... |
