Help Me, Alex. Help Me Help You

I'm going to invent the genre of "Classic Punk" to occupy the same niche as "Classic Rock," as in 'we've come to change the future of Classic Punk forever,' or 'they sound very Classic Punk.' They'll hate me for it, but I want to think Consumer Feedback lives in that space.
Further,
Dear Knitting Factory,
Why come you don't turn no lights on for the afternoon shows? I know the lights exist physically -- I can see them with my naked eye and I've seen them turned on in the past. Are you saving that much money? Are you comfortable with your lack of effort? Is there an image of slapdash fuck-it-all-ness you're trying to maintain? Are they broken? For God's sake don't try to make things look cool -- that would break my heart.
Sincerely,
Richard Gin
P.S. I look forward to you moving to the current Luna Lounge space and somehow managing to make the lighting worse. See you next year!
Labels: bands, classic punk, concert photography, consumer feedback, music, the knitting factory, whining
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