on the drums during a set. I believe it was Mr. Greg Oblivian's time when the machine fot switched on, leading to Mr. Eric Oblivian's departure from the stage. Mr. Jack Oblivian had been performing a song when Mr. Greg Oblivian began an impromptu hymn to the virtues of the drum machine. "Ladies and gennleman, I just wanna tell ya, this drum machine . . . my favorite thing about this drum machine . . . is that . . . as I'm sure you all agree . . . the best thing . . . is that . . . you don't gotta play 'em yourself. Ya just TURN 'EM ON!" Mr. Jack Oblivian said, "Hey, waittaminnit, Greg Oblivian, this is my song!" Mr. Greg Oblivian had, by then, completely derailed the rock'n'roll show and Mr. Jack Oblivian's guitar rapidly became another noisy element of this weird techno-garage stew. He soon fled for the comfort of the dressing room, guitar in hand, to make noise from its confines. Mr. Greg Oblivian continued to harangue the crowd from onstage. "Ladies and gennelmen, I don't blame my parents for the way I turned out, I blame s'ciety!" He eventually followed his bandmates into the dressing room, mike in hand, to finish his "song." It's worth mentioning that at this point some 80% of the crowd had left, leaving only an amazed and baffled minority. Finally, Jack quit hitting random chords on the guitar and somebody must have distracted Greg from the mike, for all that he could be head was the tinny thump of that five-dollar drum machine. Hands down, the Geek Weekly show of the year for 1997.
Over the years I've emphasized the crappiness of the Grifters' Austin shows compared to those they've played in Houston. Jennifer and I experienced a near perfect pair of shows in Houston a couple of years ago, one at Goat's Head Soup and another at the Urban Art Bar with the Strapping Fieldhands, and on both tours the Austin shows haven't come near to their Houston counterparts. I have no idea what in the hell causes this. The Grifters are much loved in Austin and they even have a groupie home base of sorts here. A ton of people go out to see them when they play. In Houston this past October, there were about fifty warm bodies in the whole damn bar. Margaret and I felt like we had our own personal Grifters show all to ourselves! Hey, maybe that's what I like about those Houston shows — but really, this one was truly fine. Full Blown Possession is much more to my liking than Ain't My
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