I listen to my favorite music over and over and over again.  If I stand back to observe my listening patterns, I might determine that I am grotesquely obsessed and perhaps insane.

This observance has occurred repeatedly over my entire life, but yesterday morning I was a particularly harsh critic.  In the car CD player (it’s an old-fashioned one that only holds one disc, which perhaps points to a laziness as explanation for what is to be described) was the Nine Black Alps CD.  I saw these guys with my friend TK.  TK goes to a bazillion rock and pop concerts and once in a while I tag along.  We saw them in a bar for a $10 show with maybe 50 people in the crowd.  They played all of the music from the CD much faster so the entire show was one big adrenaline rush.  They were incredibly talented and mechanically perfect, or tight as we like to say.  Afterwards, we met them and bought a CD for $7.  I’ll never forget how wasted those guys were.  This was after I had quit drinking so I was punch-hyped on Diet Coke, but man oh man, those guys were wasted, and I remember wondering Read the rest of this entry »