Music
It was 1998 at the Showbox. It was Seattle Fest, or some such thing. Twenty bands on two stages playing six songs each. I was playing in Green Apple Quick Step, and we were slotted to finish the evening on the main stage. The crowd had more than noticeably thinned
Music
In 1999 the band I was playing with — New American Shame — was selected by the Cult to be the support act on a tour of The States. This will be the first of many stories from those 10 weeks — and spill over encounters that continue to this
Music
The first time I was able to control my functions after having all but the most essential nub of my rectum yanked out as a result of a bout with col-rectal cancer was at a show the Cult played at the Showbox Market in March 2008. It wasn't fully clear
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While I’m aware numerous articles have already appeared in this, and other, top shelf, highly-respected music and entertainment periodicals — regarding the much anticipated reunion of one of the original, late ‘80s early ‘90s south-end rock bands, SQUIRT — I also remember that you couldn't swing a cat through the
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I have a fairly high patience threshold. Maybe higher than most. If my desires are certain to be satiated at waits end, there is almost nothing I can't (or won't) tough out. I attribute this to a couple of things. First off, I have a four-year-old son. That
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I see the hopeful. The slick— collared, aggressively slouching homies and their mini skirted, pushed out and painted on female counterparts, waiting behind the chord at certain hip Sixth Avenue dance spot on the weekends. The faux “line to get in” is brilliant — so the management can try to
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Hey there, hi there, ho there. My name is Geoff Reading. Five years ago, for nine months or so while my wife was pregnant, I forgot to pay attention to what I was doing and woke up one morning having relocated my family from sunny Los Angeles to your lovely
