The best and worst two days of my life took place at Bogarts with my band

Radioactive Weasel last month. We had practiced daily for near three

years, and our group decided to pull together again and enter "The Battle

of the Bands." This was the first time we sparingly paid fifty dollars to

perform anywhere. All the other competitions we had entered were mail in

tapes and then wait for a response. We got out of bed at five in the

morning, then raced to our drummer's house. Loaded on uppers, practiced

four and a half hours to perfect our original songs, we were to play that

night.

Pumped and ready to get started we packed the van with our drums and

guitars then started our journey to Clifton for our show. As usual, we

got there way to early, so we did what any fun seeking under aged

musicians would do. We searched the allies and found a half passed out

drunk and took him to the local bar, then got a few beers each before the

show. We then returned to draw numbers for the order of the bands.

I eagerly pushed my way to the front of all the other bands, being the

obnoxious prick I am, and drew the first card. Unfortunately I drew the

second band on stage out of nine. The best position to be in is about

fourth or fifth band because that is when the crowd starts getting into

the music. Pissed off I haphazardly wondered back to my group to inform

them of my greatest mistake.


2

We loaded the equipment into the worlds slowest elevator, and stumbled our

way to the backstage lounge. After I had read graffiti covered walls

until my heart was content I noticed much writing by some of my favorite

groups like Nine Inch Nails, Marilyn Mansion, Korn, and The Dead Milkmen.

Inspired by them I also signed the wall with...