The Hospitals on the Moon

Last night, Steven and I went out to see some bands at Durty Nelly's. This may not seem like a momentous occasion, but for 2 new dads with very hectic and exhausting lives, it's a big freaking deal to be out after midnight. Our main reason for going was to see Danny play with his other band, Blacksnake. They totally ruled in every way, and it was great to see Mike H. let his hair down and spin his hair around like Rudy Sarzo. The riffs were heavy and played in earnest, which is all we can really ever ask of each other, ain't it?
The opening band was The Hospitals on the Moon. They were young (compared to us old farts..) and really pretty good. The guitar player would just surprise you, all of a sudden some bizarre Steven Malkmus "solo" would appear out of nowhere, and we'd freak out. He played some good noise, too. Watching this band together got me and Steven talking about the old days, when we didn't have good tuners and we were paralyzed with stage fright (maybe that was just me). They reminded me of some important lessons:
1. if the kick drum head breaks, and you are faced with a) stopping the show and finishing on a "down note" or b) Just effing play the show, dammit!! , the correct answer is b. Who needs a kick drum? Just hit the floor tom more. This was one of the most awesome things about watching this band. Faced with equipment mutiny, they soldiered on.
2. If you're writing a song, and you get to the last 3rd of the song, and you're unsure of what should happen, just grab some frets and squeeze until it sounds like you're strangling a cat. That should pretty much take care of the last bit.
3. Tuners are a must.
4. Youthful enthusiasm will always trump technical precision. At least if I have something to say about it.
5. How many times have i said this... nobody wants to hear talking during a song. If it's free-flowing words, not rhyming or what have you, talk/sing it, or for f's sake, scream it. People hear talking all day long, and frankly, they've had enough. What people really want to hear on a daily basis is hearing somebody else's vocal chords shred themselves. That way, the next day when they're at work, they can feel better about their mundane existence: sure, they didn't actually scream at their neighbor for how shitty their lawn looks, but at least they got to feel it when somebody else screams.
Anyway, Danny played the shit out of his drums, I've never really seen him bang his head before last night, and I love rock enthusiasm. It felt good to witness.
H