I have... bad memories... too
Did you hear that Bass Wolf passed away yesterday???
A few weeks ago, shortly after Chris and I split, and I was even more of a basket case, Eric, Rox, and I saw Guitar Wolf at the Magic Stick. It was cool, you know... first time I'd been to a concert in months, so it took a little... adjusting... it was a big joke that we were standing in the foyer at *10:30* groaning, "There's another opening band?! Guitar Wolf won't be on 'til after midnight?!? Aw, fuck!" I was feeling old and awkward, surrounded by displaced Williamsburg girls who didn't look alike - worse, they looked interchangeable - but it's damn hard not to be cheered up by Guitar Wolf, EVER, even while standing passively by a pylon trying to field sweaty, mohawked Canadian strangers who come barreling out of the pit solely to grab *my* arm and shout, "Yeah! WHOOOO! People... are getting... NAKED up there!!!" It's Guitar Wolf. It's fun. He makes sure at least 10% of his audience takes a crack at playing a guitar solo, and there are NO PAUSES between songs - instead, all songs are punctuated with a rapid-fire Engrish volley of "THANK YOU! DETRRLLOIT ROCK CITY! ROCK AN ROLL LET'S GO!!!"
But what really, you know, *did it* for me was the introduction Guitar Wolf gave his last encore... words of advice - for me, and all his fans:
"You have... bad memories. I have... bad memories... too - he [Bass Wolf] never listen to me.
In Japan, we call it (nah-me-dah)... but, we cannot... change the past.
But we can change the past... THROUGH THE FUTURE -
I HAVE... ROCK AN ROLL *TIME MACHINE* - ONE TWO THREE FOURLET'S GO!!!"
For the next few hours, it seemed like everything might turn out alright.
Because Guitar Wolf has bad memories too, and he's still rocking out, fighting zombies... that sort of thing.
I have
rock and roll
time machine
*let's go*
A few weeks ago, shortly after Chris and I split, and I was even more of a basket case, Eric, Rox, and I saw Guitar Wolf at the Magic Stick. It was cool, you know... first time I'd been to a concert in months, so it took a little... adjusting... it was a big joke that we were standing in the foyer at *10:30* groaning, "There's another opening band?! Guitar Wolf won't be on 'til after midnight?!? Aw, fuck!" I was feeling old and awkward, surrounded by displaced Williamsburg girls who didn't look alike - worse, they looked interchangeable - but it's damn hard not to be cheered up by Guitar Wolf, EVER, even while standing passively by a pylon trying to field sweaty, mohawked Canadian strangers who come barreling out of the pit solely to grab *my* arm and shout, "Yeah! WHOOOO! People... are getting... NAKED up there!!!" It's Guitar Wolf. It's fun. He makes sure at least 10% of his audience takes a crack at playing a guitar solo, and there are NO PAUSES between songs - instead, all songs are punctuated with a rapid-fire Engrish volley of "THANK YOU! DETRRLLOIT ROCK CITY! ROCK AN ROLL LET'S GO!!!"
But what really, you know, *did it* for me was the introduction Guitar Wolf gave his last encore... words of advice - for me, and all his fans:
"You have... bad memories. I have... bad memories... too - he [Bass Wolf] never listen to me.
In Japan, we call it (nah-me-dah)... but, we cannot... change the past.
But we can change the past... THROUGH THE FUTURE -
I HAVE... ROCK AN ROLL *TIME MACHINE* - ONE TWO THREE FOURLET'S GO!!!"
For the next few hours, it seemed like everything might turn out alright.
Because Guitar Wolf has bad memories too, and he's still rocking out, fighting zombies... that sort of thing.
I have
rock and roll
time machine
*let's go*