Marc

The Afterglow
Do you really want to read two glowing Spoon reviews? Probably not. So I won't go off a tangent. Zach pretty much covered everything. They may not necessarily be my favorite band at this moment, but I will say that I am now a thoroughly loyal Spoon fan. Britt Daniel does not look like his voice should be coming out of his throat. Not by a long shot. And the bass player was Doug Flutie. I rarely say things that make Zach laugh for more than four minutes, so it was really great for me to point that out last night and look over at him three songs after the fact and watch him still chuckling. It makes a girl feel appreciated. You know?

Baker will die if he ever does anything like the car-door-open thing ever again. I don't love too many things in life. My parents. Most of my friends. My pens (Vision Uni-ball, fine, black ink, silver casing, btw). And my car. Theoretically I could part ways with my guitars and my amps and my camera, and whatever, but my car is here to stay. My car is what defines me. I am a driver, and my car is the thing that I drive, and so help me shit when anything ever happens to it (like Matt backing into the fucking pole with it in our apartment parking lot last year), I get livid. In all fairness, I backed Matt's car into a parked building three years prior, so we're even. But Baker, no way. My car door WIDE OPEN on a Chicago street, not very well lit, not in a neighborhood that I recognized (though it didn't seem bad at all, but still). Boo. It's the principal. It's my car.