Below, please find the photos I took from the Silke stage before, during and immediately after our performance last night. No self-portraits, but there were many cameras flashing, so it's possible that evidence of truly diabolical terrors will eventually appear... From the erratic angles chosen, the space might seem to be empty, but there were upwards of 200 patrons inside SAB, and you can spot many of them huddled to Tim Seaton's right. We scared the living shit out of the noise hippies who had plopped, cross-legged, on the dance floor. Disgusting... The first band sounded like an interoffice memo. The second, a middling bottle of Chianti that had been open for three weeks. The third clanged and hammered and achieved little more than meek tintinnabulation. Robbie Basho it wasn't...
At the conclusion of our performance, we received a few minutes of encore requests, all of which we refused. Not out of arrogance, but simply from a shared sense that less (in our case, 53 minutes) was sufficient. "We're all very sick," I said. "Something we ate." Then we collapsed.
Claudia, pictured in the first of the photos below, spun a fantastic, bass-heavy DJ set afterward. Consciousness soon gave way to exultant oblivion.
Rope Cosmetology returns in September!
Best,
Karl
(Click each image for larger versions of same...)
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