Lots and lots of photos.

Back in February, I caught Gibby Haynes, singing most of the better songs of the Butthole Surfers with The Paul Green School of Rock backing him. Watching kids, from 8-18 perform on a stage is not my idea of fun at all. But I figured, when am I going to see a Butthole Surfer concert ever again? So, there I was with a bunch of moms and their cameras, along with a gaggle of aging Puppies (that’s Punk/Hippy). The crowd was pathetic and after suffering through part of one of the opening band’s set, I seriously considered leaving.

However, I’m glad I stayed because Gibby was fucking awesome. The dude is pretty old looking, but he still has his voice and rack of distortion gizmos. The kids were a marginally acceptable backup band. No one could manage any of Paul Leary’s signature shit. But still, it was sick seeing Gibby live. Here’s a photoset.

Then, on March 4th, I went to The Knitting Factory to see one of my all-time favorite live bands, Boris. The club is far too small a venue for the band and sold out as it was, the place was packed to the fucking gills, hot and uncomfortable.

The opening band, Growing, sucked fat donkey balls. They had a seriously impressive array of effects pedals, but all they could manage to create was substandard dance floor-ish music, delivered via guitar and effects pedals. Who the fuck wants to listen to that and what the fuck do they have to do with Doom Metal? Terrible. I stepped outside and let them finish their crap set beyond the range of my ears.

Boris was great. It was my second time seeing them live. They played a bunch of songs off of their soon to be released album and just all-around blew me away, as was expected. Photos, photos, photos. Boris rules.

Lastly, on the 5th, I saw the Sludge Doom juggernaut, Weedeater. Originally booked to play Club Midway, they switched at the last moment to Don Hill’s, due to Midway being shut down for some violation of some sort. After a couple of seriously mediocre opening bands (can someone say jam-metal?) and a large amount of PBRs, Weedeater finally took the stage.

As usual, they were molar-shattering loud. Unfortunately, about four and half songs in, the cops showed up and shut the show down because of it. One faded rock geezer who worked at the club said to me, “In my 25 years working this place, it ain’t never been shut down ’cause of noise. ‘Dat band is fuckin’ loud!”. Weedeater never fails to disappoint.

In truth, I was amused. I love Weedeater, but I was drunk and tired and they did manage a few songs. I hope they play New York again. I had a bunch of beers with the band and a completely one-sided and heated DRM debate with the very drunk guitarist (call me an Anti-DRM Nazi).

Some pretty good photos of the aborted show can be found here.