We arrived in SLC and had the rest of the day off. “Rest of the day off” means catching up on emails, news, etc., and trying to find guitar shops and decent parts of town to walk around, or voiding the human race by staying in the hotel room.
Johnny Rotten of P.I.L.
We arrived in SLC and had the rest of the day off. “Rest of the day off” means catching up on emails, news, etc., and trying to find guitar shops and decent parts of town to walk around, or voiding the human race by staying in the hotel room.
Now the last few times I have been in SLC it has been ,to be honest, crap. This time was a surprise. First stop: a well known coffee shop where I got talking to the guy who had just moved back from Williamsburg, Brooklyn. He reckoned that it was starting to get a bit of a good arts scene going now. I noticed a lot of fliers for plays and jazz, avant garde music on the noticeboard. That looks alright.
Off up the road to a superb old junk shop selling books, records, ’70s toys, 8-track cartridges (cutting edge back then), and general dustiness. It’s great going into these sorts of shops. You can only do Borders so many times, can’t you? I bought a book from 1981 called Women in the New Rock, featuring the likes of Hazel O’Conner, Honey Bane, The Au Pairs, Lora Logic, Belle Stars, Pat Benetar, Sheena Easton, as well as The Story of Sun Records. Both books cost approximately Fuck All (which is a denomination of currency only used in junk shops and yard sales) and coincidentally, both books originated from the UK.
P.I.L. tour bus
Next port of call was the Salvation Army. Hang on, that’s got a huge rainbow flag hanging in the window?
“Afternoon,” I exclaim.
“Mnooh! Afternoooon” replied the most obviously gay man in Salt Lake City.
Now that is a massive, massive deal, as far as I was concerned, as the other times I have been in SLC, I was confronted by a million Osmonds. The normal Sally Army volunteer would be expected to be someone to the right of Mrs. Thatcher and possibly with bluer hair. Something had happened here. Turns out that a lot of people who had moved to NY or LA to get involved in stuff had started returning and a fairly sustainable arts scene had developed.
”You can have a job here and a nice apartment and have money left over.”
I saw a flier for a gay night at a club and thought “that looks alright.” It looked somehow different again. Strangely colorful after seeing a million indie band fliers the last few years. When I would visit gay clubs during the late ’70s/early ’80s (which were tied up in punk rock), you were guaranteed a decent night with no muppets trying to cause a row. Sadly, as society became more homogenized, the squares have got involved in everything and you have meatheads everywhere. There’s been a spate of queer-bashing in the UK recently and it may be a sign that the gay scene has to go back underground for a bit.
I’m not gay and I don’t pretend to know much about the scene, but you can have a great night in those clubs. Away from the tossers, they have a proper laugh. I had a great chat with the bloke and then my time on probation was up. The shops were closing. Off to the hotel and an early night. An early night–what an absolute lame cunt I am!
I remember absolutely naff all about the show–except for the fact that JR is now expanding his request to Walter to turn up the bass during “Religion.” Each night it gets longer, so by now John is saying, “Walter, at the Alter: Turn. Up. The. Bass.” And tonight he was pointing out Walt to the crowd too, which caused a lot of piss taking from the rest of us, saying, “Are you signing albums now too, Walt?!” sort of stuff. Walter, by the way, is a bit of a boffin. A lot of a boffin. When he gets a bit pissed, he gives lectures about the merits of different desks and microphones. On the bus. At 4 A.M. He also seems to be constantly hanging around with guys from companies:
“This is Bob from Eventide.”
“This is Pete and Roger from Avid.”
I never get to hear the show from out front but the things I’ve had people say to me are extremely over the top regarding the clarity and power that Walter achieves. People very rarely comment on sound at a show unless it’s exceptionally bad or astoundingly good. Every night compliments fly around based on the latter. He’s a bit good, Walter.
Truck-stop warning sign
After the show we had to get out quick as we were about to do a ballbreaker drive to Denver and there was snow ahead. One A.M. and we were on our way. But at about 7 A.M. I woke up to find us in a truck-stop. The road was closed up ahead ’cause of the snow. We sat. And sat. At about 2 or 3 P.M. the show in Denver was officially canceled and we were going straight to Kansas City. It was strange to be sitting in a truck-stop in the sun due to snow blocking the road ahead. That’s America! Of course by the time we got through the bit where the snow had been, there was hardly any left.
Another truck-stop warning sign
These are getting pretty boring now. Please no part V. And thanks for that caption below the first photo, I would never have guessed who that was.
never heard em.
that t-shirt owns.
“Mnooh!”
“An early night–what an absolute lame cunt I am!” ROFL
I think the human race should be voided too.