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Date
August 10th @ Canes in San Diego, CA
If I were to begin a set I think I’d open with farting noises to
the tune of Yankee Doodle Dandy. After
this and a few “fukk yeahs” to San Diego, Zebrahead took the club to
heaven. Their very first song
initiated the non-stop round of moshing in the “No Moshing Permitted”
pit. These are some energetic
mother fukkers that know what entertainment is all about.
With pink drums and black fingernails, the rhythm section ripped
some hard smooth beats that anyone with blood in their veins has to dance
to. The group decided that
music wasn’t enough so they had a “roger rabbit” dance off for some
T-shirts. Apparently no one
knows the “roger rabbit” anymore but that’s ok because you have to
give the shirt to the chick anyway right?
Hey, just because he has three testicles and a small pecker
doesn’t mean you gotta make fun of him.
Ali Tabatabaee, Ali Tabatabaee, Ali Tabatabaee! Alright, now that
that’s out of my system I can ask when did Compton move to Orange
County? This man can rap
better than 90% of you fukkers out there. He comes faster than my ex’s climax. The band stopped for a few impressions including some Napalm
Death and the beloved Spice Girls.
They’re own stuff included “Wasted” and the title of their
upcoming album “Playmate of the Year.”
This is Motha Fuckin Zebrahead Bitch after all.
There was some scratchin on guitar and a little magical one-handed
six stringing by Justin and I have decided that we should all have a
massive orgy with Zebrahead. Next. I love The Ataris as much as the next guy but MY GAWD did I feel sorry for them being sandwiched between Zebrahead and Less Than Jake. Don’t get me wrong. They played fantastic live but as far as showmanship goes, they were lacking in comparison. One of the highlights was “The Radio Still Sucks” followed by some modifications of the same song in which upside down boy Kris threw down on Kid Rock, Limp Bizkit, and other generic, pop rocks, MTV whores. I wished somebody would have shot the K-mart shoppers couple that stood in front of me the entire set (fun fact). The Ataris also played crowd favorites “Your Boyfriend Sucks” and “My So Called Life.” Now gather round the campfire kiddies. It’s time for a sing-along because “San Diemas High School Football Rules!” It was a slow build up but this closer had the crowd jumping and some great violence happening in the pit. Less Than Jake was the final group that night. But before we got to that, I thought we should probably wait half an hour or more. Could I go out for a smoke? Nooooooooooooooo! The people at the bar can? Yes. Can I get a great big FUKK YOU to San Diego’s non-legal drinkers hatred? Yes. Fog, fog, fog, fog and good lord it’s a guy with no skin on his head! And confederate clad Chris says, “There’s a pist off trucker in the house!” LTJ was watching out for their fans as always. The scalpers outside selling tickets for $20 got many a "fukk that" and one great big "Lick my fukkin redneck fukkin asshole!" Then played "Happyman." So yeah, ska is alive. It's doing quite well. I think it has a little condo in Rosarito. Buddy, Derron, and Pete beat the crowd to a pulp with their brass knuckles. LTJ tossed in a little something from their upcoming album by the name of "Suburban Myth." Yet another tune to keep the pit surfing and surfing. This is San Diego after all. While it rained shoes, there was a hundred person chorus singing, "takes me away from a world too small." Nothing makes a show quite like an interpretive dancer packing TP. Although one fan thought that he might be a better on stage dancer, a face full of toilet paper let him know otherwise. About two thirds of the way into the set, Canes security decided that no beer would be allowed on stage. Naturally the band complied without complaint. Yes... that is what happened... Chris stated that in all his years of touring he had never had his beer stolen (the bastards were probably drinking it in the back) and he swore never to play Canes again. Sucks for Canes. The music continued and it was obvious that the guitar gods had smiled upon Less Than Jake. Uh, they rock! Surfing had been in high gear the entire set but a pit only opened up after an ill-fated skydiver found a great big hole in the crowd; perfect to drill his face into the ground. This unfortunately lead only to disaster. With two songs left to go, Chris put his guitar down saying, "I can't play havin kids gettin man handled in the pit man." So fukk that 800 lb. bitch in the pit for ending the concert early. We chanted "Less Than Jake" for awhile but it was obvious that gone they were. Goodbye to romance. Goodbye to friends. - Mac 10
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