24tix.com Experience Blog

My Gogol Experience by Wild Bill Hill

I have been in the music scene for about 28 years now and I am also an avid music photographer. My friends Gogol Bordello, just visited Salt Lake City at The Paladium and I was able to land myself a front-of-stage seat for the evening to try my best to take as many pictures as I could. Gogol is a non-stop exciting band with all the bells and whistles and then some! I had a blast during the show and after it was over I said my goodbyes to the band.

Later I decided to share my concert photos with The Paladium and introduce myself. Well, they loved the pictures so much that I was invited to become the "Venue Photographer" for The Paladium and shoot as many and ALL the shows I want!!!

I believe this is a testament to the great music scene we have in Salt Lake City. It is important for us concert goers to have best shows and seats in the house.

Here's the link to My Gogol Bordello Album.

THANKS,

Wild Bill Hill

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The New Transit Direction

I was pretty new to the music industry. It was within the first couple of weeks that I started working at Kilby Court when I met this kid who lived on Kilby Court – the actual street from which Kilby gets it's name. He'd walk over and keep me company as I took money and stamped the hands of the kids who'd come to see a show. His name was Jake. He told me that he was in a band and that they would be playing at Kilby really soon. (Side note - I'd heard of his band, but never actually seen them play.)

That time came. Jake's band set up their gear on stage, did a little sound check, and then mingled around a bit before time for the show. I can't tell you who opened for them; maybe Form of Rocket or somebody like that. Anyway, tons of kids showed up. It was a lot, especially for Kilby and for them being local. Finally, Jake's band came on stage, put on their guitars, checked the mic, and their lead singer, Josh, said, “Thanks for coming out, we're The New Transit Direction.”

The New Transit Direction was totally different from anything I'd ever heard before. (Keep in mind that I was new to the indie music scene and I'd never heard Fugazi or Jawbox or Jawbreaker, not to mention Superchunk and Sunny Day Real Estate.) The New Transit Direction knew how to ROCK in a subtle, humble way. They never thought of themselves as “The Shit” nor did they ever have a pretentious cord in their music. They just brought the stuff that made for a great show. After that show they went on tour so I didn't see them for about a month. Needless to say, I had a MAJOR crush on them.

As time went by Jake and I started dating. I ventured out with TNTD and their girlfriends to their local shows and to the close out-of-state ones, like Colorado and Vegas. Let me tell you, those were some fun times! And those guys have some crazy stories.

One of their last out-of-state shows was opening for The Used in Vegas. They had already driven down earlier in the day and I was waiting on some of their shirts to be screen-printed so I drove down separately. I was by myself and just outside of that canyon you have to go through, somewhere between Salt Lake and Vegas, right before Mesquite. All of a sudden, I hear a loud “POP” and my car starts veering out of control. I was in the left lane, which of course, didn't have a shoulder for me to pull off on. I looked in my rear-view mirror and saw a huge semi kiddie-corner to me in the right lane. I put on my signal and completely cut-off the semi as I feared for my life. My car, thankfully, came to a stop on the shoulder. I got out to find that my back driver's-side tire had blown and if that wasn't bad enough I didn't have any phone reception. The next exit wasn't for a couple of miles. I was devastated. I didn't have a carjack, so I couldn't change my tire if I wanted to. The show was going to start in a little over two hours. I was barely going to make it to the show BEFORE my blow-out, how in the Hell was I supposed to make it now?

A friendly older couple stopped and luckily had a carjack. We broke my tire iron, trying to get the lug nuts off. Good news for me, they had a tire iron too. We were able to put my spare on, but there was no way I was going to make it to Vegas on it. The couple followed me as I drove on the shoulder to Mesquite. They helped me find a Big-O Tires. It was a Saturday and I got there 45 minutes before they closed. At first they told me they wouldn't be able to get to my tire until Monday. I told them I was on my way to Vegas and I had to get there tonight. Thankfully they took pity on me and decided to squeeze me in before they left. In the mean time, I had called Jake to tell him my situation. He was ready to send someone in New Transit's van to come get me. When I found out that Big-O would change my tire I called him back and told him I thought I could make it.

I made it to Vegas with about 30 minutes to spare. We got the merch (including the shirts I'd brought down) set up and I watched my home-town heroes open and almost steal the show – it's hard to overshadow the headliner . . . . I felt like a proud parent watching them play in front of The Used's roaring Las Vegas crowd. Afterward, Quinn Allman, the Used's guitarist, let a few of us crash in his room for the night before heading back to Salt Lake in the morning. Thanks again to The Used and even more so to Quinn.

Forwarding to Spring of 2006 at The Depot in Salt Lake. It was The New Transit Direction's unofficial last show, which was really quite special, especially since no one knew it would be their last. I know Dan's now playing drums for The Used, which is a pretty solid gig, don't get me wrong, but I'm still keeping my fingers crossed for the day The New Transit Direction takes the stage once more.

Sara Monroe,
Manager - 24tix.com

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Dashboard Confessional by Chris Englen

The last show I got to see was Dashboard Confessional. They played in the Jamboree Festival with other bands such as the Aquabats, The Format, and Colbie Caillat. It was outdoors so it really made the experience fun. Sometimes when you go to a concert, you go because the music is expressed within your life and you can relate to the artist. We are everyday people, with everyday scenarios just like the artists who write and share their musical talents with us. It touches you in situations through life that make you smile, laugh, cry, and always remember those memories.

When you go to a Dashboard Confessional concert, you see the emotions from Chris Carrabba. You know, right there, from an audience stand point, that the music Carrabba and his band expresses is REAL.  The crowd gets in sync with the artists as they sing along to all their songs. The night was great. I was really happy to hear Colbie Caillat live too. When you listen to an artist live and realize how real they are you respect the music and listen to it more as I do. Dashboard came and played last year in Orem and that was the best show I’ve gone to. Brand New opened up for them and they got the crowd pumped up. As Dashboard came out to the stage, they had a curtain step up so all you could see were shadows. The crowed grew anxious for them. They opened up playing "Don’t Wait" and Carrabba started singing while the curtain was still down and everybody was on there feet screaming! The violinist, Susan Sherouse was amazing!  She made me feel worry free that evening with her smile and talent that was glowing.

Another entertaining show I got to see was Hellogoodbye. Cute is What We Aim For opened up for them at In the Venue and it was a blast. Both artists put on a show that was worth the price. I am amazed at the artists that come through Salt Lake. Hellogoodbye and Dashboard are both coming back this month and I am looking forward to it! I hope I can make it to both shows. Augustana and Jon Roston are opening up for Dashboard and I know it will be a night to remember. –Chris Englen  


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Junk in the face, opening acts, and a small rodents first steps by Circus Brown

On today's episode of the Golden 90's we'll be exploring the remarkable phenomenon know as the opening band.  The post modern music lovers of the 90's were known to turn their noses up and on a rare occasion actually 'Boo' the opening band off stage.  While writing my thesis on Hydroponics and the cultivation of indoor tomatoes I was lucky enough to witness some really great opening bands and some that were heckled off the stage later became favorites of mine.  Who you ask?  Well I'll tell you, The Melvins for one I've seen leave the stage in a tsunami of spit and jeers multiple times when they were opening for Primus and Smashing Pumpkins.  Jon Spencers Blues Explosion was another just before the Beastie Boys, looking back on that I am ashamed not because I was booing, but because I wasn't paying attention until the band was getting hit with a barrage of debris.  Oh I've been the one taunting, like at DV8 when Orgy opened up for Love and Rockets. I was the only one in the sold out show screaming at Orgy till my throat was sore to flip the tape and just play Blue Monday and get off the stage. A fan near me told me "Shut up this is America nobody wants to hear it asshole."  Sometimes it amazes me what dudes in those flaming shirts will say.
 
In 1997 my favorite band was Built to Spill, I couldn't get enough of them.  A few years earlier we'd witnessed the glory of BtS at Spanky's and that night Decomposers were the opening band; Chopper looked simply amazing in his leather g-string. That night I started to really like Decomposers but was still too excited to see BtS to really remember much more then the sexy attire of the opening band.  BtS really blew us away and it wasn't just from Dug catching his amp on fire and having to borrow a Fender from the opening band.  I couldn't wait to see them again.  When they finally came back to town in '97 once again Decomposers were opening but so was a band called Modest Mouse.  My friends and I all laughed at that name, hey the 90's were a different time.  That night, oh that night, Sunday May 4th 1997 at The Bar and Grill down on 8th south.  I showed up to catch a little more of Choppers glitter, then came Modest Mouse.  Right now you're probably thinking I'm going to tell you about how they kicked so much ass and became my favorite and you should have been there back before they were all cool and popular right?  WRONG!  Modest Mouse really, really SUCKED that night.  When Isaac started "singing" a lot of folks started to laugh and shake their heads.  My oh my did they suck, the only thing we could do was go outside and wait for them to get off the stage. Their sound was like a cheese grater on my ears.  Too bad there wasn't a taco stand at the Sears back then or I'da spent an hour out there shotgunning some asadas.  When they finally left the stage the bar started to cheer, everyone crowded around the stage thirsty for some sweet Built to Spill.
 
Dug once again showed us some magic, but he played all the songs off the new album that wasn't even out yet. It was good but you know when you want to hear the old stuff they never will play it and you end up getting drunk and pissed off and vow never to listen to that band again, yeah I'm talking to you Bachman Turner Overdrive worst state fair ever!  Anyways after every song people would yell out 'Car' and it started with Dug shrugging it off, then saying "we don't know any songs about cars".  By the end of the show every time the song would get yelled it looked like we were punching him in the mouth.  Don't get me wrong the show was really good, but they only played 3 songs that weren't off Perfect From Now On and every song off that album is 5 minutes or longer so the show was done in under an hour.  They were closing with Untrustable which was the only song anyone had heard off the new album, pretty great song, I was so happy just grooving to the ending jam. Then the worst thing that could possibly happen did.  Dug passed his guitar over to Isaac, then one by one BtS left the stage giving their instruments to Modest Mouse and let them finish the song.  I feared the worst, after sitting through them already once tonight they were going to ruin the encore?  It wasn't ruined, Isaac didn't "sing" and they actually played a pretty cool ending to the song, but still BtS didn't get back on stage, they didn't do a true encore, it was a downer.  For months all I could do was hate Modest Mouse, I never wanted to hear them again.
 
A year and a half later Built to Spill came back and played the DV8, once again a great show and I even met Dug by the payphone and asked him if I could record the show. He said, "Sure" and told the door guy to let me back in after I went and got a tape out of my truck.  After the show I got backstage and talked to Dug for a couple minutes asking if he wanted a copy of the show. He replied "No, I didn't like our performance tonight, but this week Modest Mouse is coming to Salt Lake. Could you record that show and send me a copy?"  WHAT? "They're my favorite band" he told me.  I was in shock, but I said no problem I'd get it recorded.  Which I did and sent off a copy but I didn't pay any attention that night to Modest Mouse and about 4 months after the show I was out fishing with a friend of mine and he was looking through my tapes and pulled out the Modest Mouse show.  He'd never heard them, and I'd never listened to that show, so we gave it a try.  The music was playing but we were standing next to a river not paying any attention till we got ready to drive home, right when we got in the truck Isaac sang "Freeze your blood and then stab it into me" from Night on the Sun, we both started laughing.  Rewind, play, listen, laughter.  Oh man this band is great; we rewound the entire show and listened to it on the way home and both of us decided we were going to go out and buy a Modest Mouse album that week.
 
So you see kids sometimes bands have off nights, or maybe they just need more practice or it could be they just sucked in their early years.  Give opening bands a second chance and you might find a gem, except for Orgy - fuck that band I hope they never leave Temecula.

Circus Brown
Not a Side Show
10pm - 1am
KRCL 90.9 FM krcl.org


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Punk Rock Changed Our Lives by Shon Taylor

“Punk rock changed our lives”, a line from The Minutemen’s “History Lesson - Part II”.

I was a 13 year old rocker in 1987. Every day I selected a different concert t-shirt to display to my peers from beneath my denim jacket and fluffy mullet. I was a chubby kid who spent his Saturday nights at home watching Headbangers Ball until one in the morning. And once the rock ended, I’d try to get the cable box to fuzzily tune in the late-night softcore movies on Cinemax.

Metal has everything that a 13 year old boy could ever want... It’s full of danger, satan, fire and blondes. In my mind, the bands that I listened to lived a charmed life in Los Angeles. They’d wake up with perfect hair, pull on their leather pants and jacket, jump on their motorcycles and speed to the club. Once there, they’d be greeted by gorgeous busty women in tattered skirts who would join them for whiskey drinks before the show. On stage, pyrotechnics would light up the room and spotlights would follow the band members as they prowled the stage. And after the show orgies would last long into the morning.

But metal was changing. And I was growing up.

I started listening to a different type of metal. As I became a less-confident individual, I was drawn into a less glamourous form of metal. I no longer wanted to look at gender-bending men being chased by women I would never have. There were metal bands that were faster and angrier. Bands filled with people who dressed like me in jeans and t-shirts. Bands whose members were uglier than I could ever be, but could care less.

I considered these new metal bands to be more honest. Their lyrics didn’t deal with heartbreak and there certainly were no power ballads. They didn’t dress a part. They didn’t “do” their hair. They screamed lyrics of distrust, anger and death. I’d never heard speed, passion and aggression like the sounds of Megadeth, early Metallica, and Venom. In my mind, music could never get more brutal and it would never be faster.

Then, on a visit to Park City with my family, I purchased the Minor Threat cassette at Get In Here.

The Minor Threat tape didn’t leave my Walkman for the better part of my 14th year. Just when I thought it couldn’t get louder, faster or more passionate, this tape rolled into my life. I didn’t know who these guys were. You couldn’t buy magazines at the 7-11 to see their pictures. There wasn’t an Internet where you could find out about their peers. The only thing I could do was mail a post-paid envelope to the 3819 Beecher Street address of Dischord Records to get a “catalog”.

Soon I was riding the bus downtown to visit Raunch Records at Positively Forth Street where Brad Collins stocked a fascinating collection of all things punk-rock. A whole new world presented itself from that storefront. I met people there that I know to this day who were and are involved in a scene. Some of them were angry. Some political. Some positive. Some jackasses. I bought everything that I could afford and taped what I couldn’t afford from my new friends.

Punk rock provided a creative community outlet. Instead of being an introverted metal kid, I was becoming (laugh if you know me) more extroverted. I’d found my herd and a light came on. I learned that anybody (for better or worse) can make music. Anybody can book a show. Anybody can release a record, draw a cover, make a zine, screenprint a shirt. Punk rock removed boundaries.

Punk rock changed my life.

How has music changed you? What band or show was it when your light went on? Get all DIY with your bad self and go to 24tix.com/experience and tell us about it. Get involved. We’ll hook you up with some concert tickets and other shit if we select your entry.

On an unrelated note, Johnny Cash died four years ago last week. If you’ve never listened to Johnny Cash, download some classic Cash this weekend. He wasn’t just a country singer. He was a passionate individual who wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. And that’s fucking punk.

Also unrelated, The Fucking Champs are playing at Urban Lounge on Friday night. Even though I abandoned metal for punk in my youth, metal was still my first love. Check them out on on iTunes and hope to see you at the show. I'll have a 24tix.com pin on. Say hi and I'll buy you a beer.

--Shon

Thrill Kill Kult by Erik Lopez of SLUG Magazine

The first concert I ever went to was the Thrill Kill Kult, Impotent Sea Snakes and the Genitortures at Club 5 in Jacksonville, Florida. In the mid 90s I was 14 years of age and had never been to a concert in my life. My parents, strict LDS father-knows-best parents, could not understand why I liked the music I liked or why I would want to go out to a concert so late at night. Furthermore, they were against me listening to “modern music” and had, on several occasions, purged my CD collection of inappropriate material. There was no way in hell that I would have been able to go.

Weeks before the show, a friend and I concocted a scheme to get me out of the house and to the show. Essentially it consisted of the old standard of lying about spending the night at someone else’s at then going to the show. So at age 14, no previous concert experience and the only real rock bands I “liked” at the time were Primus and Nine Inch Nails, I headed out to Jacksonville determined to go to my first concert.

When we arrived at Club 5 as I was a little scared. I was probably the youngest kid at the show and I was wearing Old Navy clothing and some boat shoes while everyone else was dressed in leather or fetish gear. I quickly snuck into the venue and waited nervously for the show to start.

The Impotent Sea Snakes came on first and were goth rock with tons of cock to spare (and some vagina too!). The Impotent Sea Snakes are a PT Barnum and Bailey circus of carnal debauchery that included topless women getting “bum rushed” by nuns, fire breathing, etc…it was the whole kit and caboodle of the sleazy side show in the back alley.

The Genitortures came on stage next and took the debauchery to a whole new level. While the music was loud, seductive and dirty the stage show was worse. It consisted of people getting genital piercings on stage, spankings and whippings and a frenzy of homoerotic showmanship.

While the music wasn’t spectacular in the first two bands, the show was shocking. I don’t think that they try to play music persay as much as practice the visual shock and awe of doing naughty things on stage. For a boy of 14 years old, a sensitive disposition and a nascent LDS background this totally floored me. Good thing the Holy Ghost goes to bed at midnight or else I would have had a heart attack by the end.

Thrill Kill Kult, the last band on, seared through a fantastic set but by that time I felt so dirty and trashy that I don’t remember much of what happened when they played. There were flashing lights, cage dancers and the crowd was in a lustful frenzy of rubbing each other down and violently clashing.

When I walked out of the venue my eyes were on fire, seared with what back then could only be construed as evil and filthy images. Not only were my eyes burning but my mind was emblazoned the mongering energy of what live music could induce in someone. That night, instead of turning me off to music, it made me that much more crazed for it. What a rush and thrill!

Needless to say, my parents found out of my scheme and grounded me for a month for lying to them. I should have known they were going to call my friends parent’s but that night was un(w)holy satisfying.

Erik Lopez
Associate Editor, SLUG Magazine

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The New Working Class Hero by Chad

I love the unknown band. I should define that better: I love the good, decent, hardworking, unknown band. The band that is content to avoid the games and all the uphill struggle of musical popularity and actually, dare I write it, stay true to their music. It’s an idea that every band throws around, but it always ends up on the van floor with all the cigarette butts, half-stale cookies and a week’s worth of dirty laundry.

I love the good, unknown band that knows no matter how many nights spent in the safety of a well-lit Wal-Mart parking lot, eating out of dumpsters, that their music is solid, albeit undiscovered. They aren’t dependant on the rest of us to tell them that they’re good at making music.

All us fringe music lovers have our own favorite unknown band and among them, Surrogate is my favorite. Surrogate spent three weeks on Emery’s acoustic tour this summer and to date, their Myspace still has fewer than 1,000 friends. It’s not that they’re unpopular; it’s just that they don’t have to be. Chris, the lead singer is perfectly content to live in his trailer home outside Chico shooting clay pigeons and drinking Newcastle’s with his friends. He knows he’s good at music; he just doesn’t need us to validate him. He’ll surface every few years and record another brilliant album and hopefully tour on it for a few weeks like a modern-day Townes Van Zandt. Chris’s CD comes out next week on a semi-decent label, but it’s so different than what they usually put out that they’ve already forgotten it was their money that paid for production (money that Chris took and used to buy his own recording equipment and then proceeded to record the whole project in his living room).

They’re out there in almost every venue in America, my favorite unknown and yours. They get all the weeknights, all the Monday shows for gas money and maybe a place to stay. The new working-class hero is a musician in an unknown, unsuccessful band. And we love them for it. Someone has to do it. We’re glad it’s not us. We want to sleep in our own beds and drive cars that actually have air conditioning. We’ll know who they are though and we’ll always be there to buy another pity t-shirt.

Chad,
promoter, Solid Ground Cafe
www.myspace.com/sgcafe

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Henry Rollins and X by Jennifer Heaney

Last fall I saw the Henry Rollins Band open for X at the Depot. I must say that it was so nice to see Henry Rollins hangin' in there in his 40's. He paced the stage like a caged animal, crouching down and rocking violently back and forth while he spewed social, political and brilliant songs out onto the electrified audience. It seemed odd that he would choose to open for X, as it appeared most people were there to see Henry. X was good, but by the time they got up on stage and started performing, those of us who grew up with Rollins and were in the same age range as him were about ready to call it a night. He's coming back to the Depot this October to perform spoken word, and I am very excited about seeing him live again. I wonder if he'll talk like he sings...wearing only black knee-length shorts. I'll keep my fingers crossed.

--Jennifer Heaney

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The Juliana Theory, by Sara Monroe

I get a lot of flack for having liked The Juliana Theory so I cannot believe I agreed to share this with the 24tix.com audience. Looking back, however, I may not be where I am today if it hadn't been for them.

Here goes:

The Juliana Theory (TJT) was the key that unlocked the door to underground music scene for me and my spiritual awakening. Before them it was N'SYNC, and the Backstreet Boys and anything else that was "POP." I liked what was fed to me by the mainstream music industry. I'd known nothing else. I didn't know music could be so real, so pure, and so intense. How could anyone make me feel these emotions I was having from a show I saw, more like, was dragged to, in the 4-car garage that is Kilby Court 7 years ago?

I first heard The Juliana Theory in my friend's car. As we drove around I'd become vaguely familiar with songs like “Duane Joseph” and “Music Box Superhero” from their 'Understand This is a Dream' album. A couple weeks later my friend said TJT was going to be performing in Salt Lake. She wanted me to come with her. I wasn't sure if I really wanted to go but I eventually caved in at her pleading.

We pulled up to the venue that is Kilby Court and I was a little shocked and thought she was joking. “There playing here?” I said, “This place looks kind of sketchy.” I'm sure there was an opener but I can't recall who it was. Then we watched as TJT set up their equipment on stage. We stared at them, gawking, as teenage girls tend to do when they think someone's cute. There were quite a few people there in that little garage. Probably 30 to 50 at least. (Nowadays that's nothing, but back then it seemed like a lot.) The music started and I didn't really know all the lyrics to the first couple of songs, but I observed the crowd and eagerly awaited a song I was more familiar with. Then “Duane Joesph” played . . . . . . .

That song was a real crowd pleaser. Everyone sang/screamed along . . . . “Tell your mom you need and day off, so we can play out in the rain” . . . . . I was jumping up and down and smiling and as I looked around I realized that I was among people who shared in my same feelings towards this band, this music, this energy.

Religion and spirituality, when you're a teenager, is a confusing place. At this show, I felt like I belonged. I felt that no one was judging me. No one was telling me what to believe. I could sing and scream just as loud as the rest of them. I was amazed that I could find this kind of love and camaraderie in this shack-of-a-place (Kilby) and among people I didn't even know. We were all there for the same reason; the music.

When they played “Music Box Superhero” and the lead singer ,Brett Detar, held on to the rafters with one hand and held out the microphone with the other to let the crowd in the back know they were part of this song too . . . . “and I can never be the apple of your eye, the story of your life is what's inside” . . . . I was hooked.

When the show was over, the band asked if anyone had a place for 6 guys to crash before heading off to their next town. Being the naïve girl I was at the time, my jaw dropped. My mind was racing, I thought to myself - “You mean to tell me that these guys just played their hearts out and made me feel like I might be figuring out who I am and what is important to me and they don't even have a place to stay???!!!!!” I couldn't believe it. I begged my friend to let them stay at her house. But she was living with her aunt at the time and we both knew that wasn't going to go over well. We were too young to have boys that we didn't even know staying at our house anyway. I mean, come on, this is Utah, I was 16, and I lived in Bountiful.

We nervously thanked them for a wonderful show and played their CD in the car as we drove home.

Music has been a part of my life ever since.

For what this band and Kilby unknowingly did for me I am forever grateful. From the people I've met to the opportunities in jobs, social and love life, I'm indebted.

Sara Monroe,
Manager - 24tix.com

Remember to submit your experiences for a chance to win free tickets! Visit 24tix.com/experience for more information.

Big Business by Shon

It had just started snowing when Trent and I left the house for Kilby Court. I hadn't been to a show at Kilby in at least a year, and honestly wasn't looking forward to standing outside in the snow while catching up with folks I hadn't seen in a while. But the snow slowed to a gentle pace by time we arrived, making the night air quiet and still.

I was never a huge fan of Karp or Murder City Devils (precursors to Big Business), but was very familiar with their music. I'd listened to Big Business a bunch on Pandora and at the house and loved the brutal passion that Big Business brought to their music. Simple and straight ahead – two dudes, bass and drums. I've always dug the huge sounds that can come from smaller lineups like Husker Du, The Minutemen, Early Man, etc. Tonight I was going to witness this sparse twosomes noise first-hand.

After watching Form of Rocket stumble through a noisy set, a good amount of the audience filtered out of Kilby, never to return. As the Form of Rocket five-piece tore down, the much slimmer Big Business two-piece set up their drum kit and bass stack. Within minutes, the remaining audience members were closing in on the stage to see the headliners.

Jared began their set whistling the intro to "O.G.". From the moment the whistling ended until the end of the show, the room was filled with Coady's franticly tight drumming and Jared's thick fuzzed bass and powerful screams.

Not since the last time I saw Murder City or Mike Watt had I'd seen a band play as tight as Big Business. Their shit was TIGHT. Coady swings his arms behind the kit so wildly that you can't figure out how he's even hitting the drums - rocking it with his entire body. And, for as thunderous the sound from Jared's bass, you can't figure out how he's not attacking with more force. Seriously, his sound is as big as Cliff Burton era Metallica, but he maintains poise.

The thunder, the frantic and the screaming somehow come together as both a giant fuzz and a crisp song. The dichotomy of these two people, and their associated sounds, rumble the room and leave everybody's ears ringing. By the end of their set, Big Business was drenched in sweat (even in the cool winter Kilby Court), having played their asses off to the small appreciative audience.

When I left that night and returned to the silent, snowy night, I could still feel Big Business in my belly. And that feeling has never left.

Big Business will be playing at Liquid Joes on Wenesday, Aug. 1. 24tix.com isn't selling tickets for the show, so don't look for it on the site. But I'll be there to see one of my favorite bands destroy.

--Shon

Remember to submit your experiences for a chance to win free tickets! Visit 24tix.com/experience for more information.