The next week, we met up at the insulation warehouse for rehearsal again. “I think you’re gonna like this”, Jamie said, producing a black and purple cassette from the back pocket of his cut off just above the kneecap slightly faded black denim shorts. “What’s that?” I asked. “Troy recorded our set on his four… Continue reading Four Track
We rocketed through our set. Every time we finished a song, the whole basement screamed and clapped. I was instantly addicted. I thought we were pretty good, but they seemed to think we were great. As soon as we began, everybody was on their feet. All the people who had been sitting on the floor… Continue reading 17th & Bainbridge pt.2
Dizrythmia plowed on through the rest of the summer of 1990 with great energy, joy, and enthusiasm. We got together at the insulation warehouse at least once a week and blasted out our repertoire in the stifling humidity. The place was maybe 3 or 4 degrees cooler inside than out in the sun, but no… Continue reading 17th & Bainbridge
A few days after I saw Little Shop Of Horrors and re-connected with Erik, I called Jamie up and asked him if he wanted to get together and play some music with Erik and I over at his dad’s insulation warehouse. “Yeah, sure!”, he said. Always the enthusiast. We trucked our shit over there and… Continue reading We Have A Singer?
I called Jamie up and told him that I had bought a drum machine. I asked him if he wanted to come over and give it a whirl. He came over to my house and we set up in the basement. He brought his bass and amp and I plugged my guitar and the drum… Continue reading Little Shop Of Horrors
One day I was at Cintioli’s Music Center on Oxford Circle. I went in and started lookin’ at the guitars hangin overhead. I wasn’t gonna buy one. I was quite happy with my black and white Squier Strat and my Peavey Classic amplifier. They had a lot of cool guitars there. They had a lot… Continue reading A Drum Machine
“Is he white power?” I asked myself. It was a good question. In northeast Philly, pretty much everyone you’d ever met was a racist. Not formal racists, like Klan members and white power neo nazi skinheads. Just regular ass, run of the mill white people who didn’t want any ethnic minorities around. Jamie was the… Continue reading Skinheads