(diaryland) June 21, 2001 - 12:58 p.m.

Last night, I saw a good concert.

Breakfast of Champions were having their first official band practice with that name. It was fun and good. We made new songs. We finished at 9PM. The bands started playing at 9PM. We thought we could make it to the pub on time. Maybe the bands will start a little late, we thought.

Then I ran around the music school, locking stuff. Then we left to go to the concert. But then I got the unshakeable feeling that I hadn�t locked everything. We drove back. Sure enough, I hadn�t.

And then Jon needed money. So we had to run to the bank. And then Michele needed food. So we had to run to the supermarket. We bought too many lollies and there was an enormous queue at the cash registers. Nevertheless, somehow we thought we�d make it to the concert in time.

We didn�t. Myagi had already played. They�d just finished when we got there. It sucked. I was looking forward to them.

Next up was Tirany. Apparently, an alien entered Miles� bass tuner so she freaked out during an entire song. They kept laughing at random times during their set, and it was funny. They sang about peaveys and freedom.

Then I saw the Spazzys for the first time. Everyone said that they had the rock moves down, and they were right. Their songs were bouncy, power-chordy ditties. They were cheeky. They really like the Ramones. I wanna play a gig with them some day. I danced a bit.

And then came Tribal Clown. I hadn�t seen Tribal Clown since last year, when they had a geeky bass player. But this time, with Amber on bass, they were noisier and ten times more gnarly (dude) and also sillier. Millions of guitar strings were annihilated and an extremely metallic time was had by all.

The better a concert is, the more sore my neck gets. My neck was really sore at the end of this gig. I give it five sore necks out of five.