By Max Dropout


“…I’m so glad to find you all still up and partying, goddamnit. I was hanging out with these guys, and they did a bunch of speed and fell asleep at 6am. They had Dead Moon Tattoos. I thought they’d be cool.”
-Chris Owen, of Killer’s Kiss

For at least two months prior to that date in Memphis, the question on everyone’s lips was, “Are you going?” Continually, I was greeted with the query. Surely, on this year’s Halloween, no other place would exist but Memphis; when Greg Cartwright, Eric Friedhl, and Jack Yarber took the stage of the Hi-Tone it would go down in the minds of real rock n’ roll fans as one of those historical dates you just had to see. After several catastrophic events, including a bout of near-homelessness and a change of residences, I managed to secure enough money, a ride, and two tickets just days before Halloween. Make no mistake about it. I would have knifed my pregnant mother to get there. No amount of disaster or harpie-squelching about being a grown up with “real life” responsibilities and priorites was going to fucking detour me. I was going… and so I, stowed along with a handful of other Austinites, made the pilgrimage to Memphis, leaving late Thursday afternoon and arriving at our destination that same night. While the Oblivians may have been the initial draw, there was still a ton of stuff going on that weekend, which culminated in a bizarre national garage punk convention, as the seamier elements from metropolitan points all over the U.S. map converged upon one hot spot. The following account has been extracted from my inebriated notebook entries, which were scrawled over the course of the weekend. Continue reading

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