karl
New member
- May 10, 2012
- 1,809
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Here's a great little story from the Gabriel Knight games composer (adventure game series) He has done some fantastic game music and seems to be a very nice fellow.
Somehow this story made me think of our dear Heretic
BTW: Happy St. Patrick's day, mate!
Here's my Irish story
The year is about 1978. Our power pop band "The Yanks" are playing at the world famous Whiskey A Go Go on the Sunset Strip.
We were opening for a popular new wave/punk Irish band, "The Mods" .
We were just some local LA kids doing our best to be irrepressibly cute in our skinny ties,and pump out tunes that were hummable and whenever possible would involve the need to use electric twelve strings.
Our set went well, though the decidedly more mod/punkish SRO crowd thought they could take us down a notch by yelling "Beatles go home!" while throwing bottles at the stage. We of course took this as the highest possible compliment, and it inspired new levels of coy expressions and guitar laden hip swivels from us! (The next morning the LA times gave us a great review)
After the show, upstairs in the surreal and historic old dressing rooms that had the names of everyone who had ever played there (Hendrix, The Who, Zeppelin, Buffalo Springfield, The Yardbirds, etc..) scrawled in the walls, we encountered "The Mods" as they came up after completing their set.
From what we could tell, in our somewhat chemically induced haze, they had done an admirable job of whipping the crowd into a frenzy and causing a near riot.But as they came up the stairs from the stage, they violently kicked over all the large trash cans and made several holes in the walls, screaming obscenities while spitting and kicking wildly.
Being nice kids from the burbs, we found this an unusual response to a good show. So as they walked by, we muttered "Hey guys, what's wrong? You guys killed it!?" The response we got was simple and clear as they jumped into our faces before slamming the door to their dressing room. "We're bloody IRISH!!!".
As I looked over at the two impish beautiful blonde twins in the corner of the room, the legendary rock journalist chatting up our bassist, and the pleasant enough but massive guy who had just returned from Japan, who was helping us as a roadie that night, named Steven Seagal, I thought "What a funny business this is"...
Somehow this story made me think of our dear Heretic
BTW: Happy St. Patrick's day, mate!
Here's my Irish story
The year is about 1978. Our power pop band "The Yanks" are playing at the world famous Whiskey A Go Go on the Sunset Strip.
We were opening for a popular new wave/punk Irish band, "The Mods" .
We were just some local LA kids doing our best to be irrepressibly cute in our skinny ties,and pump out tunes that were hummable and whenever possible would involve the need to use electric twelve strings.
Our set went well, though the decidedly more mod/punkish SRO crowd thought they could take us down a notch by yelling "Beatles go home!" while throwing bottles at the stage. We of course took this as the highest possible compliment, and it inspired new levels of coy expressions and guitar laden hip swivels from us! (The next morning the LA times gave us a great review)
After the show, upstairs in the surreal and historic old dressing rooms that had the names of everyone who had ever played there (Hendrix, The Who, Zeppelin, Buffalo Springfield, The Yardbirds, etc..) scrawled in the walls, we encountered "The Mods" as they came up after completing their set.
From what we could tell, in our somewhat chemically induced haze, they had done an admirable job of whipping the crowd into a frenzy and causing a near riot.But as they came up the stairs from the stage, they violently kicked over all the large trash cans and made several holes in the walls, screaming obscenities while spitting and kicking wildly.
Being nice kids from the burbs, we found this an unusual response to a good show. So as they walked by, we muttered "Hey guys, what's wrong? You guys killed it!?" The response we got was simple and clear as they jumped into our faces before slamming the door to their dressing room. "We're bloody IRISH!!!".
As I looked over at the two impish beautiful blonde twins in the corner of the room, the legendary rock journalist chatting up our bassist, and the pleasant enough but massive guy who had just returned from Japan, who was helping us as a roadie that night, named Steven Seagal, I thought "What a funny business this is"...
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