Sunday, January 18, 2004

First, a very sad story.

We waited for six hours and didn't get an encore. (That sentence sums up the story and gives away the sad, sad ending. I want my readers to be prepared for the ultimate sadness.)

On Thursday night I was on the computer and Will was downstairs, doing something else (presumably playing Vice City). I started shrieking and probably scared Will half to death. The reason for my excitement and temporary inability to speak was that I had checked Jesse Dayton's website for tour dates, hoping to see if he'd be back in LA soon, and found a Road Kings show listed in Anaheim for Saturday night. The Road Kings are his rock 'n' roll band, who have not played together (except possibly in Texas) for a few years. They are the way that we discovered his music, and put on the best live show ever.

Now, you all probably know that Will and I don't leave the house much if we don't have to. But at 7:00 last night we were in the car, headed to Anaheim. The website said that the doors opened at 7:00 and there were several bands, but it did not say when the music began or what order the bands would be in, so I was rather tense when we encountered heavy traffic on the 5. It took us nearly an hour and a half to drive the 27 miles, which is sadly quite normal around here. We paid our $10 each and went inside the aptly-named "Doll Hut." It might as well be called the Doll Shack, but I loved it. They pretty much only served beer, so I didn't drink much, but that's OK. They allowed smoking inside despite state law prohibiting it, which was very weird and uncomfortable at first. Then it was just happy-making.

Anyway, the music hadn't yet started when we arrived, and in fact did not start until about 9:30. The first band, Skeeter Truck, was great. They played for about half an hour, and then there was a wait of about another half hour for the second band, whose name I didn't catch. I am referring to them as The British Invasion, because the lead singer was British and they annoyed me by playing for an hour and a half. Don't get me wrong - they were very good. But there is only so much psychobilly that one can take, especially when crammed into a teensy space. The third performer was called Lee Rocker, or Johnny Rocker, or something. He was also excellent, and did a lot of Hank Williams covers and the like. He finished playing just before one in the morning.

The Road Kings finally took the stage at about 1:15, and they were FUCKING AWESOME. They played the one song that I'd decided I couldn't live without hearing, and a few others that I like almost as much as "Gunslinger." The stage was too teensy for Jason to do most of his tricks with his double bass (he does wheelies and stands on it and stuff), but he was still rocking out.

At five of two they left the stage. Everyone yelled and clapped and called for an encore. And we waited. And waited. And then the "DJ" music came on and some guys who I didn't care about it started setting up on stage for an "All-Star Jam." I "booed" very loudly and we left.

Of course the 40 or so minutes that we got were just terrific, but I am so disappointed at the same time.

And that was my sad story.

I was going to tell another story, but it is almost time for Alias. I am going to try to pay enough attention to be able to comply with P@'s request for a recaplet every week, but I am not sure it will happen. In addition to being out until 2:30 this morning and sleeping fitfully (due to a sore back, neck, and hip), we went horseback riding today. It was excellent, but I am SO stiff right now, and feel as though I could sleep for a week. I guess that will have to do for a second story: I rode on a horsie. It was nice.