(Find Friday’s coverage here.)
I woke up in a deep corner of Humboldt Park. It was a dog’s tongue slobbering all over my face that woke me. All night I dreamed of snakes snapping at my face. But when I woke I found myself covered in Gwar slime and a piece of paper saying that I had sold my soul to Glenn Danzig for four Misfit songs.
I made my way back to Riot Fest where I caught Dinosaur Jr. play the loudest set of the show so far.
When I ran away from home at age five, I made my way to Hermosa Beach where I lived with Ron Reyes in an abandoned church. Shortly after that I became friends with a group of kids that would eventually become Pennywise. It was good to see Jim again. I bought him a beer after the set.
The kids went nuts during the Pennywise set.
I needed a bit of a break from all the volume, so I lounged in the grass while listening to DeVotchKa.
No matter how much whiskey I drank or how hard I squinted my eyes, Flag wasn’t and never would be Black Flag.
I had to see Blondie. There is a picture of Debbie Harry wearing a tight, white shirt that resulted in my first wet dream. I might have another tonight. She still has it.
Made my way to see Rancid, old friends from my time in the East Bay.
Had to see the Violent Femmes celebrate the 30th anniversary of the release of their first album, which they played in its entirety.
Here is Sunday.