after spending one half of the best of
the years you should be enjoying asking
obscure dudes to turn your fold-back up
& getting pissed at the washed out sound
coming from an uncertain combo of ibanez
& mid-range peavey amplification (dudes
give the thumbs up or else you can’t catch
their eyes) it’s no wonder you turn to sound
engineering after all why not get a job where
you can still be ‘involved’ with what you love?
now you can fuck up another young band’s sound
because they don’t sound like nirvana & why
should they get away with it anyway? like
the lines strobing from an art-goth set design
or falling from a new lyricist’s mouth & heart
you become cynical in a parallel kind of way:
& girls dance next to you not below you