Happy 120

TGI 120 Day, dudes -- my favorite part of the week. Yesterday, Talihan wrote of a certain life-changing show that we went to at CBGB back in the day. Just to back the dude up, he was right. Also, I'd like to add that at that show I didn't wear ear plugs (which I used to do but don't anymore, poseurs) and my little fifteen year-old ears rang for a week. I ended up going to the doctor who told me I would have unnoticeable but permanent ear damage -- I was stoked beyond stoked.

I bring this story about the RFTC show up, because it was part of the year that got the going-to-shows ball rolling. For many people, going to rock shows in high school was the way it was. Before the bars, and, well, the bars, social events of the weeks were at Roseland, Irving Plaza or the Academy (RIP), where I went to my first alt show ever. The openers were a new up and coming band called Candlebox. They were opening for a band called Living Colour.
Living Colour were tough as nails. Tell me what other band has been able to take the stage wearing bike shorts and playing neon-swirly-painted (whatever the fuck that means) guitars and still find a way to shred your damn faces off. What? Can't think of one? That's because there were not others.

Vivid was one of the first CDs I ever got and for some reason I've been thinking about this song a lot lately.



Alas, the boys called it quits. A few comebacks here and there, but it was never the same. Their impact, however, was never forgotten.

See you in the pit.

P.S. They used to wear damn wetsuits, too.