Another Zootown Underground Report

In the underground, powerful talismans lined the walls,


pagan drums were pounded,



dinosaurs were denied,




and fire was juggled.


The Mermaid arrives and points out it is time for the photographer to be photographed.

So here I am, the old kitchenpoet, Olshittay, friend to all women everywhere, including witches and goddesses.

Zootown Underground, Part Deux

Mikey

Allison

Mariah


Cassandra


I love the four women of Knot Knocked Up. On Thursday, February 19, they headlined an event in the basement of ZACC.

Appropriately enough, the band before Knot Knocked Up was called No Babies. Except for the drummer, while playing, they all moved around too rapidly for me to keep up. When some instrument trading took place, and the singer sat at the drums, I finally captured her image. Before that I had a hank of hair, a shoulder and a flash, nothing more.

The band laid down their instruments once and transformed into a brass section, becoming visible in the process.





Deny the Dinosaur opened the evening with some powerful metal strumming and almost dirge-like melodies. They were, however, either shy or shunning the audience with their backs turned. I sneaked around back and got one decent profile.



Green Sickness is the moniker these chaps go by.

The proud father of the drummer asked me to photograph his son. He's above and his son is below.







This fellow only attends the hippest of events.


Perhaps inspired by No Babies, Knot Knocked Up capped the evening with an awesome performance topping even their explosive show at the lab with a truly fearless exhibit here.

Zeppo and Photoshop Ads

Zeppo will play the Union Club on Friday, August 29, starting at 9pm. I've begun my initial experimenting with Photoshop, creating a poster and flyer for Zeppo and updating my own flyer.
Chuck Lester

Ruthie Data

The plan now is to move by the end of the month. I hate to give up the river, Hellgate Canyon and the birds. We have two pair of osprey nesting nearby and fishing the Clark Fork here. Last week we were visited first by one bald eagle and then a pair, and later a golden eagle. I'm going to the N/W corner of north Missoula. My email addresses and my phone number won't change. The move requires a business card and flyer update, which is not ready to fly yet.

The second prototype of my blog ad is ready to go, however, and here it is.

Denying Dinosaurs at Badlander

An evening wouldn't be complete without a visit to the Badlander, where I checked-in on the early punk show. Later, in the evening, I made it a point to get back for Deny the Dinosaur, a trio with more sound than you can believe. They opened the Dead Hipsters' show at Dauphine's the previous week, and I arrived too late, hearing only half their last song. Friday, I made up for that by arriving early to witness the whole set. J.J. says, "Dyno-mite!"

It is time to throw music labels out the window. I remember when "alternative music" was really alternative, before it became just another marketing label. Some local music falls in the guidelines of metal, country, rock and more cross-pollinated strains(i.e. surf-punk and dub-funk). They are all being transformed by Missoula bands into trend-setting, cutting-edge genres. The old pagan comes out shouting, "Thank the powers that be and all the spirits of place for the creative energy here."

It's time to throw your damn television out, too. You don't need to go out and buy the latest giganta-screen, either. You need to get off your ass, get out of the house and see some live music. I respectfully refer to John Prine, who said, "Blow up your TV, throw away the paper, move to the country, build yourself a home, plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches, try and find Jesus on your own."