Ten years ago I spent a brief period of time living in London. I wasn't there for a long time, but I did have my own place, and I had to wash my laundry several times, so I've always said that I lived there. I was 'in college' but I wasn't going to school. I was just biding time, I suppose. I'd like to say that I had a great time hanging out in pubs and nightclubs, partying constantly, dropping X or whatever, but I didn't. I went to the local (and by local I mean 90 minute subway ride away - fucking London) avant garde cinema everyday, sometimes multiple times in one day, and I got to see dozens of films I'd always heard about but didn't have access to in 'The States'. I watched a lot of things like this and this and this and this, all of which enriched my life considerably.
One night they did a midnight screening of this movie:
Naturally, I had to go. As usual, I went alone and early, bought some popcorn and a beer, and claimed a seat. I relaxed, watched the commercials on the screen, and tried to ignore those that came into the theater after me, who all had dates, and friends, and shit like that, and were loud and boisterous, as a midnight screening would demand. And then this guy walked in:
That's right: Jeff Bridges. The Dude himself. No shit. He sat two rows behind me, on the aisle seat. I noticed him right away and kept looking back at him throughout the movie to see his reaction, which I was more interested in than the movie. He watched it with a sort of, I don't know, subdued glee, I guess. When the movie ended I followed him, which I admit is creepy, to the subway of all things. I was trying to think of something to say to him, but the phrase 'Excuse me, are you Jeff Bridges?" either never occurred to me or just seemed uncouth. Anyway, he started giving me strange looks so I figured I might as well just forget about it and I exited at the next stop.
This is a true story, but, again, has nothing to do with what I intended to post. Which is this:
Myles of Destruction was a Philadelphia based 'extreme metal' trio consisting of drums, bass, violin, and fucked up vocals. For me at least, such a description is advertisement enough. They existed from 1999-2004 (I think). To my knowledge they only released one official album Running Only Makes the Fire Worse which I've somehow managed to misplace. However, here is their first four song demo, Doom Town, recorded in 2001. It's weird and chaotic, difficult to classify, and a little scary, so I thought it might fit in here.
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Nice transition on that one!
ReplyDeletePS Remind me to tell you about the time I took room service to Julianne Moore and Jeff Goldblum at some point (spoiler: they were boning on the sly).
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ReplyDeleteLink is dead. Could you re-upload it?
ReplyDelete