Countdown To A Decade:
Our pals, Mitch and Jen, run the SPACELAND club so, when The SINGER and his NEW Manager (who was his old “Euro” booker from ’96) Gene Kraut, were looking for a secret place to “sneak in” a set, this place seemed right. But the secret wasn’t a secret long, as the lines around the block could attest to! I was nervous a bit before the show but then the SINGER bought me a beer and I lightened up a bit. Our guitar tech that night, David “Cookiehead” Jenkins, had all the guitars ready to go and we stepped onstage and just did it. The SINGER was great, of course. And, I’ve covered much of this in the earlier diaries from about 6 months ago (OH MY GOD, HAVE I BEEN DOING THIS THAT LONG!!!!!????), but it’s worth mentioning that Gene came up with the ANDMOREAGINS name but his original choice was THE RED TELEPHONES, but someone had that name. So, if ya didn’t know, now ya know, to quote FLAVA FLAV…
Now, anyone who has lived in Los Angeles (or visited) for more than five years can tell you how absolutely SCUMMY Hollywood Blvd. used to be. We’re talking druggies, hookers…you name it. Well, some VERY RICH people sunk a lot of capitol into Hollywood Bl. from La Brea to Highland, put a subway stop (A SUBWAY STOP, CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT?) AND PUT UP A HUGE HOTEL, A CONCERT HALL (KODACK THEATRE), SOME MOVIE THEATRES, and The Knitting Factory.
We sold that place out and no has packed it like that since. Every nook and cranny was filled. I remember it being really fun. But the best part of the day…and I never mentioned this in the diaries but, what the fuck, right? Ok. Well, Rusty and I got to soundcheck around 4pm and was pulling into the underground parking structure when we noticed that some GENIUS had gotten his MOBILE TRAILOR stuck on the “Enter” sign. Now, the sign is clearer than day about what the height limits are and this particular vehicle even has an air conditioner on top. So he’s stuck and then he hits the accelerator! Pulls the sign off and it comes crashing down!!!! We can’t believe our eyes! Then, out hops this small, thin guy with very long hair, glasses and a LOVE t-shirt. Rusty, withour hesitation, turns to me and slowly says (with FEAR in his voice), “Mike, I think…that might…be our sound guy…” I said to him, “No way.” How could that be our sound guy, I thought? At that moment, and it’s a moment I will REMEMBER FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE..and you would simply have to know this guy to understand what I mean…but imagine a guy who looks like Chuck E. Weiss and talks like HOMER SIMPSON…ok, got the image…ok…AT THAT VERY MOMENT Don Conka walks up to our car window, lights a cigarette and says (In a VERY Californian voice), “THAT’S YOUR SOUND-GUY. YOU GUYS ARE FUCKED,” and walks away. No smile. No wink. No nudge. He just walked away. Although Don turned out to be right, we didn’t really get the “encore” until we played San Fransisco 2 1/2 months later, if ya know what I mean… and I think ya’ll do….