….when the early three-piece version of Uncle Tupelo lived together in an apartment/rehearsal space our rent was $80 a month. We had to find a fourth roommate because none of us could divide 80 by 3.
…performing at an adult daycare facility in Chicago in the late 90’s or early 2000’s. The schedule, as outlined on a small chalkboard in the activity room, read as follows:
Meds - 12pm
Jeff Tweedy - 12:30pm
Group Therapy - 1:30pm
Which I suppose might be pretty similar to the pattern a lot of attendees at my shows experience. Even without it being enforced, I mean.
…late at night, helping some friends (also in their teens) record their band at a studio in downtown Belleville. Going slow.
Scary looking biker dude busts in the front door furiously looking for Dave, the guy who owns the studio and is “producing” the session.
Finds Dave under the mixing desk. Drags Dave into the tracking room by his mullet and gives him a merciless beating as we all steer clear in stunned silence. At one point, I swear he played my friend’s drums with Dave’s head.
Tired and apparently satisfied with the punishment he’s delivered, the low-rent Terminator leaves.
Dave, acting as if this is part of his daily routine, pops up off the floor. Bleeding from his mouth and with one eye swollen shut he asks cheerfully “Where were we? Overdubs?”