Slipknot!
Franklin's Tower
C.C. Rider
It Takes a Train to Cry
Me and My Uncle
Big River
Althea
Promised Land
China Cat Sunflower
I Know You Rider
Estimated Prophet
Uncle John's Band
drums
space
The Other One
Morning Dew
Around and Around
dead comment
The first set had an unusual
Hidi Ho...
I was there. I
The one that changed my life
Yes, It Does Take a Train to Cry
I remember looking forward to this show, the logistics and preparation and odyssey from WI and the stunned incomprehension at our proximity to the stage and dancing in the sun. And now I’m looking back through a haze like it was someone else who saw this, someone I couldn’t identify in a lineup, as if the thread of identity connecting us to former selves is an article of faith.
First time we heard Train to Cry. That soul-tickling feel of meeting a great song. Sweet venue. Anyone else notice the clouds above the stage exhibiting evidence of intelligent design? Globs of concrete hurled by graffiti artists dripped down the sky, becoming chariots of mutant divinities scrambling for parking. Face-melting show. Parking lot security gave everyone -5 seconds to leave. They may have heard stories of Alpine.
Listen to the crowd. The only barrier separating Then from Now is a distance finite and definite, measurable by the hands of a clock, each minute connected to the next like a series of steps leading inexorably between two towns. Yet that time could just as well be Atlantis. And you’re visiting. They were living their lives like you are now, that time just as real to them. What became of it? How can something so vivid and tangible become the dream of a shadow? Maybe this moment will be different. They tell you to seize the day but they never say how. Does Home Depot have special gloves?
yes it was estimated > supplication jam > uncle john's and we just looked at each other with a grin from ear to ear
I remember looking forward to this show, the logistics and preparation and odyssey from WI and the stunned incomprehension at our proximity to the stage and dancing in the sun. And now I’m looking back through a haze like it was someone else who saw this, someone I couldn’t identify in a lineup, as if the thread of identity connecting us to former selves is an article of faith.
First time we heard Train to Cry. That soul-tickling feel of meeting a great song. Sweet venue. Anyone else notice the clouds above the stage exhibiting evidence of intelligent design? Globs of concrete hurled by graffiti artists dripped down the sky, becoming chariots of mutant divinities scrambling for parking. Face-melting show. Parking lot security gave everyone -5 seconds to leave. They may have heard stories of Alpine.
Listen to the crowd. The only barrier separating Then from Now is a distance finite and definite, measurable by the hands of a clock, each minute connected to the next like a series of steps leading inexorably between two towns. Yet that time could just as well be Atlantis. And you’re visiting. They were living their lives like you are now, that time just as real to them. What became of it? How can something so vivid and tangible become the dream of a shadow? Maybe this moment will be different. They tell you to seize the day but they never say how. Does Home Depot have special gloves?