05-12-2013, 03:51 PM
The first act I caught was the Silverado Pickups. I had misread the ads and thought it was supposed to be the Silversun Pickups. The Silverado Pickups opened with a cover of the Monkees, which was very disappointing on all counts.
There was this crazy drama with a local oldtimer vol claiming to be psych. I know her (not well) and she was bitching about what a hassle it was getting in and hour it took hours and whine whine Napa wine. First off, the crack psych team aka Jedi Nite Krew, takes it's name from that scene in Star Wars where Obi Wan jedis past the stormtroopers with his 'not the droids you're looking for' schtick. All the true psych JNK breezed into the venue because it was new and no one knew wtf was going on. If she couldn't get into this new show in her own town, there's no way she could be on psych crew. The show managers understood (they had all caught her whine) but they saddled me with her anyway. I quickly dumped her into the annex and abandoned her there.
The Refusers sounds liked any other band. They did a really crappy reggae song, so I refused them.
Delta Spirit also sounded like any other band, so much so that it bugged me because I couldn't put my finger on which other band they sounded like exactly. And then, it turned out that the band wasn't Delta Spirit. It was Iron 'something'. The switched up the schedule for that stage because they moved that stage's headliner (Avert Bros) to the main stage where Furthur would have performed. There were all these rumors that BottleRock had got Prince to fill that slot but in the end, they just let it drop. There was a huge kerfuffle between BottleRock and Furthur, so much so that Phil through Turtle Rock at Terrapin Crossroads (his club) in protest.
ALO was okay. Didn't to to listen to enough to form an opinion.
Joan Jett still gotz it. I was looking forward to her set most of all, and it was interrupted immediately by a tripper that I had to takedown and take in. It happened right in front of Napa PD, and they were good enough to take a hands-off position and just observe. They were impressed with us. On a side note, there was a tremendous police presence. There were even undercover cops, but they were easy to spot because they had a drug dog with one of those little doggy jackets emblazoned with K-9 on it. Note to undercover cops: when you go undercover, your dog must be undercover too. But back to Joan, I got back out and caught the very end of her set. She's still solid, still has that voice like a punch in the gut, still cool in the blazing hot sun, stalking the stage like a cougar with a guitar, rocking a black spandex cat suit at 54 and just being the timeless rock goddess that she is.
After the tripper, I was in the RM karma zone where everything was going my way.
I caught my fav Black Crowes song, She talks to Angels. The vocals seemed a little off but they added a mandolin which brought a fresh bittersweetness to the tune.
As for Primus - Primus sucks.
I missed X. Poor timing on my part but it was a small crew and I do have to work sometimes.
I caught my fav Violent Femmes song, Why Can't I Get. They sounded great, more mature than I remember them, but perhaps that is the benefit of time. It was getting windy and cold, and very drunk, but their crowd was dancing uncontrollably which is a good way to stay warm and work off the intoxication.
Rm was distributing a new electrolyte drink called Squinch. Isn't squinch when you fail to apparate right in Harry Potter? It wasn't as sweat tasting as Gatorade. It was more like a cheap lemon lollipop.
The crowd was older, well-dressed and clean. They were also pretty snobby and felt overly entitled. The tickets were expensive and that shut out a lot of riff raff. The even-more-expensive VIP tix granted special access to these corrals with bars, tables and barstools and nicer portable toilets, the kind that come in trailers. Not sure if that was really worth it. The VIP lammy holders kept asking "where is the VIP tent?" to which I cheerfully replied "There are no tents. There are corrals."
more to come.
There was this crazy drama with a local oldtimer vol claiming to be psych. I know her (not well) and she was bitching about what a hassle it was getting in and hour it took hours and whine whine Napa wine. First off, the crack psych team aka Jedi Nite Krew, takes it's name from that scene in Star Wars where Obi Wan jedis past the stormtroopers with his 'not the droids you're looking for' schtick. All the true psych JNK breezed into the venue because it was new and no one knew wtf was going on. If she couldn't get into this new show in her own town, there's no way she could be on psych crew. The show managers understood (they had all caught her whine) but they saddled me with her anyway. I quickly dumped her into the annex and abandoned her there.
The Refusers sounds liked any other band. They did a really crappy reggae song, so I refused them.
Delta Spirit also sounded like any other band, so much so that it bugged me because I couldn't put my finger on which other band they sounded like exactly. And then, it turned out that the band wasn't Delta Spirit. It was Iron 'something'. The switched up the schedule for that stage because they moved that stage's headliner (Avert Bros) to the main stage where Furthur would have performed. There were all these rumors that BottleRock had got Prince to fill that slot but in the end, they just let it drop. There was a huge kerfuffle between BottleRock and Furthur, so much so that Phil through Turtle Rock at Terrapin Crossroads (his club) in protest.
ALO was okay. Didn't to to listen to enough to form an opinion.
Joan Jett still gotz it. I was looking forward to her set most of all, and it was interrupted immediately by a tripper that I had to takedown and take in. It happened right in front of Napa PD, and they were good enough to take a hands-off position and just observe. They were impressed with us. On a side note, there was a tremendous police presence. There were even undercover cops, but they were easy to spot because they had a drug dog with one of those little doggy jackets emblazoned with K-9 on it. Note to undercover cops: when you go undercover, your dog must be undercover too. But back to Joan, I got back out and caught the very end of her set. She's still solid, still has that voice like a punch in the gut, still cool in the blazing hot sun, stalking the stage like a cougar with a guitar, rocking a black spandex cat suit at 54 and just being the timeless rock goddess that she is.
After the tripper, I was in the RM karma zone where everything was going my way.
I caught my fav Black Crowes song, She talks to Angels. The vocals seemed a little off but they added a mandolin which brought a fresh bittersweetness to the tune.
As for Primus - Primus sucks.
I missed X. Poor timing on my part but it was a small crew and I do have to work sometimes.
I caught my fav Violent Femmes song, Why Can't I Get. They sounded great, more mature than I remember them, but perhaps that is the benefit of time. It was getting windy and cold, and very drunk, but their crowd was dancing uncontrollably which is a good way to stay warm and work off the intoxication.
Rm was distributing a new electrolyte drink called Squinch. Isn't squinch when you fail to apparate right in Harry Potter? It wasn't as sweat tasting as Gatorade. It was more like a cheap lemon lollipop.
The crowd was older, well-dressed and clean. They were also pretty snobby and felt overly entitled. The tickets were expensive and that shut out a lot of riff raff. The even-more-expensive VIP tix granted special access to these corrals with bars, tables and barstools and nicer portable toilets, the kind that come in trailers. Not sure if that was really worth it. The VIP lammy holders kept asking "where is the VIP tent?" to which I cheerfully replied "There are no tents. There are corrals."
more to come.
Shadow boxing the apocalypse