When I grow oldish, I'm going on tour. I really love concerts. I love the people, shaking my ass, the travel, all of it. I really love my husband for accepting this about me, even though he doesn't really get into it.
Les Claypool is currently on tour, and for the next few weeks, before he hooks back up with Primus and Gogol Bordello, London's Hot Head Show is warming up the crowd. Before the show, I was not at all interested in these punks and was unimpressed when they first took the stage. Within half an hour, they'd won our hearts. Sadly, I can't seem to find their album anywhere in the States. The lead singer is nearly unintelligible most of the time, but occasionally you catch lines like "flog that dead donkey" and "suck my nuts". We really got the impression that he was making fun of us.
The lyrics come through much more clearly in the recordings, and are even better than we thought. Also, this band has serious musical talent, making them entirely worthy of globe trotting with the man, the myth, the legend himself.