It was actually a Texas Flag, but yes I was wearing it as a cape along with a bejeweled flight suit with Captain Commando spelled in glitter on the back, and an American flag sweatband. In my defense, it was the fourth of July. What the hell else was I going to wear a star-spangled vest? Please. I didnt want to look like a freak.
You talked to us at the bar, Amy said. You told us about your Huffy.
Yeah. Then you asked if we wanted to take a ride on your bike.
Did yall say yes?
The memory was starting to come back to me through the brine of drunken memories. I had overdosed on America the day before at the expense of my cognitive abilities. Maybe I needed to stop drinking and dressing up in public. Then again, maybe I needed to drink more and buy more capes if it meant I got to meet women like this, twice.
Although it was July 5th, Creative Loafings Independence Fest kicked off with a bang. The two members of The Future Process emitted a factory worth of industrial music. The thud of electronic drums and keyboard effects produced a dark, machine heart beat chopped up by metallic guitar riffs.
Military Junior followed with a sound termed Indie-math-rock for people like me struggling to come up with descriptions to capture this new rock sound.
Although it was Have Gun, Will Travels first time playing The State Theatre, their fans had no trouble finding the place. It also wasnt difficult for new listeners to get into the swing of the fiddle and the slide guitar adding a lonesome twang to the lead acoustics trotting rhythm.
Mouse Fire provided more fuel for the fire of new mod-rock that will surely be the coming-of-age music for the generation to be. The bearded men in tight clothes hammered out songs from their debut album, Wooden Teeth, that were smart enough for older indie fans, while catchy enough for teens whose parents dropped them off at the show.
Car Bomb Driver closed the night with a tutorial on old-school punk. Lead singer Dave Reeder was dressed in a sport coat, slacks and Converse All-Stars (does he dress this nice for his day job?) and wielded the mic as if demonstrating how to slay a mythic beast. Although the band was older than the other acts, they had far more energy, as did their audience. A mosh pit took over the floor, instigated by a blonde bombshell enticing sweaty guys to ram into her. Its easy to be a punk when you have nothing to lose but your youth, but you have to respect an aging band that still dresses up in suits to deliver simple, fast punk with choruses like I drink beer and other songs you can follow while drunk and consumed in a mosh pit. In fact, I dare say there is something patriotic about dressing up, getting drunk, and howling at the top of your lungs in a bar on any given Saturday night.
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