So, I wasn't the only one to think the potluck at Chicken John's warehouse was rad. Check it out. That's my wife's recipe, by the way. She makes a mean cocktail, it's true.
Hey, I'm so glad you're reading this. It makes me feel a little zing. Oh, you wanted to know what's going on here? I think The Heated sounds like a little group of people who scrounged around and created instruments from what was lying about in a moment passion, moved by the inexorable need to make some noise. Two sticks from the tinder box became a rhythm section. A sewing machine cover as the bass drum. Whatever they could get their hands on.
No comments:
Post a Comment