The scene last night at the Dinosaur Jr show downtown at the Crystal Ballroom: Tons of revelers, hairy and sweaty, good and close to the stage, getting our hair blown back by the big fuzz of JLouMurph. So we’re in between songs, and people are yelling out requests. I yelled out something a little different.

I noticed the main crooner from Portland’s Music Arcade a couple heads over and yelled, “Muuuuusic Arcaaaade!” The gal looked at me with wild, confused eyes and then recognized me and gave me a big smile.

Then we shot the shit about her band playing the upcoming DDC Get-Together. Big plans. Fingers crossed. Coyle plays the skins for them. I need some more Coyle in my life. (Coyle, call me. Let’s go get some lunch, man.)

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BIG NIGHT OUT: Lovejoy called me a little after 8 0’clock last night and announced, “Dinosaur Jr. You are going.” Then those Kass’ swung by to grab me and off we went. Got downtown, parked, thought about going to see Dinosaur Jr as a kid, so long ago here in Portland. Turns out Lovejoy’s buddy was the roadie for the opening band “Awesome Color” and got Lovejoy and I on the guest list. So awesome. Thanks, man, thanks. Lovejoy, you had me at “Hey man.”

So, like champs, we missed the opening band. Rats. In no time JLouMurph took the stage and things got real loud, and, as I type this some hours later, my ears are ringing like a motherfucker. Like a big brontosaurus. A good, ripping set.

My favorite band from the years 1990-1995 was Dinosaur Jr. Hands down. Oswald got me going on “Bug” in 1989. Hooked. Instantly. Big and fuzzy and great. Bug is still one of my all-time favorites.

Thanks, fellas.

DinoNight 01: “J, Murph, Lou.”
DinoNight 02: “Matt and Nicole Kass: Dino fans.”
DinoNight 03: “Mascis and his Wall of Marshalls.”
DinoNight 04: “This guy video’d every song. Steady hands.”
DinoNight 05: “Lou.”
DinoNight 06: “Three radical 40+ year-olds.”
DinoNight 07: “A good icon spotted on the way back to the car.”

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A bunch of old pencil sharpeners. Things were just better back then.

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Our new toy: A deadly Poulan Weedwacker.

“She ripped through this heart of mine,
like a weedeater with brand new line.”
-From “Perfect Far Away” by those Bottle Rockets, Festus, Missouri