reptizzle.
Life has become too confusing - I can't figure out if I'm a member of the Reptoids or not. I end up on stage with them every other show.
What this means, of course, is I can no longer review them in good conscience. Come on, there's definitely a conflict of interests here with respects to last night's show. So what I'll do, is I'll tell you a little about the other bands.
Girl Activity opened and Stiletto Attack headlined this night at Red Line Tap. With a name like Stiletto Attack, one'd think they'd have been harder and more raw, but one'd be wrong. One'd also be the loneliest number. In fact, both bands were too mellow, too indie, if you'll excuse the use of the term, to play with the Reptoids. It felt like That Band I May (Not) Be In was caught in some kind of emo sandwich.
Also, can I talk about the Red Line Tap for a moment? I hate that place. Well, more specifically, I hate trying to get to that place. Has everyone in the North Side decided they're suburban now? They all drive at about twenty miles per hour. Seriously. Plus good luck finding it. Just following the Red Line itself doesn't work, because up there that track curves like a spasmodic snake. I found myself exclaiming, between curses, "Ashland? how did I end up at Ashland?" By the time I arrived, I was in such a foul mood, I nearly punched the door guy. Of course I couldn't drown my sorrows in beer, because I drove. Wonderful. Then to add insult to injury, the bar announced at 1:05 that anyone in their parking lot after 1 am will be towed. Thanks, Red Line Tap! You really know how to take care of your customers. There's a last call for you.
What this means, of course, is I can no longer review them in good conscience. Come on, there's definitely a conflict of interests here with respects to last night's show. So what I'll do, is I'll tell you a little about the other bands.
Girl Activity opened and Stiletto Attack headlined this night at Red Line Tap. With a name like Stiletto Attack, one'd think they'd have been harder and more raw, but one'd be wrong. One'd also be the loneliest number. In fact, both bands were too mellow, too indie, if you'll excuse the use of the term, to play with the Reptoids. It felt like That Band I May (Not) Be In was caught in some kind of emo sandwich.
Also, can I talk about the Red Line Tap for a moment? I hate that place. Well, more specifically, I hate trying to get to that place. Has everyone in the North Side decided they're suburban now? They all drive at about twenty miles per hour. Seriously. Plus good luck finding it. Just following the Red Line itself doesn't work, because up there that track curves like a spasmodic snake. I found myself exclaiming, between curses, "Ashland? how did I end up at Ashland?" By the time I arrived, I was in such a foul mood, I nearly punched the door guy. Of course I couldn't drown my sorrows in beer, because I drove. Wonderful. Then to add insult to injury, the bar announced at 1:05 that anyone in their parking lot after 1 am will be towed. Thanks, Red Line Tap! You really know how to take care of your customers. There's a last call for you.
<< Home